Believe In Happy Ever After?
by Natta
Summary: I often wished you were Nietzschean.' Pretty dark view of Beka and Tyr's relationship post-s3. Beka/Dylan, Beka/Tyr sort of
1. His dreams

**Believe In Happy Ever After?**

_"I often wished you were Nietzschean"_

She sank down on the floor of the Maru, breathing heavily as she buried her face in her hands, squelching the urge to cry out. Why did he have to do it? The bastard. Leaving, well she'd been expecting that for a while now. That's not to say it didn't come as a shock though, but…

_I often wished you were Nietzschean…_

What did telling her that achieve? She twisted and turned it every way she could, but no matter what she did it came back the same way. Why would he tease her?

_I often wished you were Nietzschean…_

Teasing her, taunting her…the way he always had, but this was just cruel. What was he trying to tell her? That she was inferior? That he loved her? No, Tyr did not "love". In the best case, he…admired a woman and wanted her genes. But he didn't, because she wasn't Nietzschean. So why would he say it?

_I often wished you were Nietzschean…_

But why? Why did he wish that? Would he have iwanted/i her if she was? Perhaps, but Tyr didn't dwell. Tyr never dwelled...she wasn't Nietzschean, and that was that to him. Or at least she'd thought it was…

Had he been…_actively_ wanting them to be together? Like she, though she'd never admit it, had? Their workout sessions, so close and fierce, sexual frustration working into aggression, such an aphrodisiac. She'd never thought it was the same for him though. Nietzscheans didn't do casual sex. They reproduced, they _mated_. She couldn't imagine being close had aroused Tyr in the same way it had her.

She wasn't Nietzschean, and that was that. Why would he wish she was Nietzschean when that would never happen? Why would he dwell? Tyr didn't dwell…

_I often wished you were Nietzschean…_

"Beka?" She flinched and jumped up. What was he doing here? He wasn't meant to be here…he should have gone by now.

"What do you want?" She used the most hostile, yet uncaring tone she could muster. She didn't look at him.

"I wanted to…explain."

"You said that before. Look, you don't need to, whatever you want to do it's none of my business, and I really couldn't care less…" He stepped up to her and let his hand cup her chin; pushing her face up to look at him.

"Oh but I think you do," he mumbled. She pulled away and took a few steps, turning her back to him.

"Well, you think wrong Tyr," she snapped. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you? The lowly kludge, her whole happiness depending on you staying or leaving. Because it must do, you're the great Tyr Anasazi out of…"

"No!" She fell suddenly silent at his outburst. "No," he continued, calmer this time. "I'm not saying that but…Beka, don't lie to me. We both know you have…"

"If you're going to tell me I have feelings for you, then I reserve the right to laugh in your face," she warned. He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"All right," he concurred, "I won't say it." His tone of voice was that which you might use to speak to a child; and her eyes squinted in anger as she turned away again. "Beka…"

"What?" She spun around. "What do you want? What _do_ you want, Tyr?"

"You." His reply almost made her fall over backwards. She sighed deeply and slowly raked her hand through her hair.

"I don't have time for this," she mumbled, and turned to walk away again, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. A bit too close.

"I'm not joking Rebekah," he whispered in her ear. She felt something connect with her neck, and things seemed to go blurry. Her legs couldn't quite carry her, and her eyes couldn't quite stay open, so she slumped against him, his arms the only thing holding her up. The world was spinning and she felt like she was fading away…

"Dylan," Andromeda's face popped up on the screen. "Tyr's slipfighter has left and…"

"Yes?" Dylan said tiredly. "What's the problem?"

"Beka's with him." Dylan's eyes popped wide open and he flew out of his chair.

"_What?_"

"And from what I can tell," Andromeda continued, "she's not conscious."

"Set a course to pursue," Dylan commanded. "You mean he _kidnapped_ her?"

"It seems that way," Andromeda confirmed.

"These last few days, I really should have learnt to expect anything from Tyr," Dylan said. He tried to look calm, but his heart was beating hard in his chest. He knew Tyr. He was cunning, an expert at these kinds of missions. What if they couldn't get her back?


	2. Rescue mission?

Believe In Happy Ever After?

Chapter 2

"Have you tracked them yet?" Dylan called as soon as he reached Command. Andromeda's face appeared on the screen and she was not looking optimistic.

"Not yet," she stated, her tone insinuating she was far too busy to talk to him. Dylan stared at her for clarification until he realised he wasn't getting any.

"Well?"

"Well what?" There was clear annoyance in Andromeda's tone.

"Are you…I mean…"

"No Dylan, I decided I'd watch a holovid now and do it later," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm _trying_ to get a fix, but he's masked the trail."

"Can you unmask it?" Dylan asked stupidly. Before Andromeda could answer, Harper and Trance had rushed onto Command.

"What's going on?" the engineer demanded to know. Dylan sighed and turned to him.

"Tyr's gone, and…"

"Yeah, we know that. So why did Andromeda just demand our presence in Command? Come on Boss, we all knew he was leaving and even though…"

"He's taken Beka with him," Dylan cut him off. The short blond was dumbstruck for a moment, first appearing as if he'd totally lost the plot before a look of despair fell over his face.

"She went _with_ him? I thought…she didn't even tell us first? I knew she had a thing for him, but I never thought…" Dylan wasn't sure whether what he was about to tell Harper would help, or just serve to aggravate him more, but it had to be said.

"Harper –"

"How could she do that to me, I mean…"

"Harper!" Dylan said sharply. Now that he had his attention, he continued; "Beka was unconscious when the slipfighter took off. We believe she was kidnapped." Harper still looked dumbstruck.

"You think he forced her to go?" Trance cut in.

"The term 'kidnapped' does tend to imply some form of forced action, yes," Dylan replied tiredly. "Sorry," he added. "It's just that…"

"Why aren't we going after them?" Harper exclaimed.

"We can't get a fix on their position," Andromeda cut in, her hologram appearing right in their midst.

"If we try recalibrating the sensors to detect deep-space…"

"Dylan!" Trance pulled at his arm, "I need to talk to you. In private."

"Trance, this really isn't the right time to be…" The golden woman stared him down and he gave a deep sigh. "Sure, why not. Harper, try and do…something to the sensors, will you?" The engineer was already hard at work as Dylan and Trance left command. Dylan's walks had been rather infamous when the Maru's crew first joined the Andromeda. As the different people had settled in, they had become less and less frequent, and Dylan had to admit, he thought as he walked down the corridor, he did not feel comfortable with being the one on the receiving end of what he suspected to be a non-encouraging speech.

"Dylan," Trance started, then took a dramatic pause, looking troubled at what she was about to say, which did not serve to encourage Dylan in the least. "I believe…you won't like me for saying this at all, but perhaps it'd be better if we didn't find her." He stopped suddenly and grabbed both her arms, turning her towards him. She looked up at him with a mix of fear and remorse in her eyes, but there was something else too. Stubbornness.

"You did not just say that," he warned, but he knew she wouldn't be backing down. He also knew he would not get an explanation for what she had just said. Damn! This was _not_ turning out to be a good day.

"Look, Dylan," Trance said calmly, shaking herself free of his grasp, "I know you don't like what's happening, and believe me; neither do I."

"You think Beka'll be better off if she stays with Tyr?"

"No," the golden woman said abruptly. "No. It is possible that she will be happy, but those possibilities are very few. It is much more likely that she will be very, very unhappy if she stays with him. But if she doesn't…" She looked uncertain for a moment.

"What?" Dylan exclaimed. "Spill it!"

"I just simply can't see a way where she doesn't stay with him; and things work out all right. I simply can't."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to elaborate a bit more than that Trance," Dylan said in a warning tone. She shook her head.

"I can't, Dylan," she said apologetically, "please just trust me…"

"I do trust you Trance," he said and made a pause. She looked at him with a melancholic smile. "I do trust you," he repeated. "But this time you've gone too far." He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her staring helplessly after him.


	3. Planning

Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter 3:

"Is there still nothing?"

"The answer will be the same as when you asked me three minutes ago," Andromeda's disembodied voice answered him patiently, yet with a hint of annoyance in her tone. A much more sympathetic-looking hologram appeared in front of him.

"Why don't you go rest Dylan?" she asked. "I assure you I will alert you if anything at all comes up." He shook his head as he continued the pacing he'd been doing for the last half an hour.

"No. No, I need to be here. Andromeda, how can this be possible?"

"He's good at masking his trail," she replied, "and while I must admit that I'm quite surprised – and unwilling to admit that…"

"I don't mean that," he interrupted. "How could Tyr do this? How could I not see him doing it?"

"None of us did," Andromeda said consolingly. "He pretended to be our friend for three years, you mustn't blame yourself…" Dylan stopped and stared at her for a moment.

"You think he pretended all along?" She looked unsure, realising she'd just put her foot in her mouth.

"I…couldn't say," she finally replied, realising how uncomfortable this made her too. She was a warship, meant to be on guard, protecting her crew, and she had let this happen? Her first officer, kidnapped by someone who had been on her crew for the last three years? And she'd never suspected, let alone noticed. She made the noise a human would make when swallowing. Dylan stared at her for a moment longer, and then continued his pacing. She looked at him, searching for the words to help, then gave up and with a sigh, returned to her AI core.

Harper slowly walked into the Maru, his heart beating fast as he looked around him. Evidence. Anything to find out what Tyr's intentions with Beka were.

What _were_ his intentions? Harper sat down on Beka's bunk and looked around him irresolutely. Did he love her? Well, as much as a Nietzschean could.

That made no sense. It wasn't that he was completely blind to the attraction that had bounced off the both of them, but Tyr had always, _always_ been held off by his insistence that humans were inferior. If he truly wanted her; would he not have claimed her before? And even then, was it not the woman that initiated any kind of romantic action, or _the mating_ as Tyr would probably prefer to have it called?

None of it made any sense. Harper stood up sharply and started searching through the ship, not sure what he was expecting to find. Any notes, any signs she went with him willingly? He was ashamed to even admit it to himself, but part of him wondered if Beka was in on this. Perhaps she wanted to go with him, but was afraid to say so, therefore staged the kidnapping? No. He shook his head. He wasn't even going to think that. He trusted Beka.

Then again, he had trusted Tyr…

He shook his head out of these musings. He was _not_ going to think like that. Not ever. Beka had been kidnapped and he was suspecting her…he shook his head. No, that wasn't fair. He turned to leave the Maru, her presence in the ship somehow so overwhelming he couldn't stay. As he walked out, he spotted something on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up, squinting as he had a closer look at it.

"What _is_ this?" He quickly left the Maru and entered the hangar bay, his eyes still fixed on the object. "Andromeda, what is this?" He held out the object in his hand as she appeared in front of him. She frowned at the small object.

"It seems like…I'm not sure. Bring it into Trance and ask her to run a scan." He nodded and left with it, his arm still stretched out and his hand open.

"So can you do it?"

"Mr Anasazi, this procedure is…"

"_Can_ you do it?"

"Yes. But, though the scientific side of it would be fascinating, it's _highly_ immoral, not to mention…"

"Did I ask you for ethics?"

"No. Yet, I'm afraid I can't go through with this. Anything this invasive is simply _wrong_ to perform without consent, not to mention that we don't have any guarantee this will work!"

"You did fine last time."

"That was not such a drastic procedure."

"I did not ask you for your _opinion_. You will do this, whether you want to or not. If you don't, I have the means to cast you and your entire family into immediate oblivion. Do we understand each other?"

"Y-y-yes…yes, Mr Anasazi."

"Good. Get to work."


	4. Gone

* * *

"So, Trance, what is it?" Harper walked back and forth, glaring impatiently at his friend now and then. 

"Midazolam," she replied, "it's an unusually fast-working sedative. Where did you find it?" Harper swallowed.

"The Maru," he said. "Do you think that's what he used on Beka before he…" He trailed off and looked at his feet. Trance sympathetically rubbed his shoulder.

"Probably," she replied, sounding a little downcast. "Harper, we _will_ find her."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm just trying to figure out _why_, you know?"

"Why…?"

"Why did he take her? Given the fact that the tension between those two could generate enough power to run the ship, I'd assume _that_'s why he's taken her, but he wouldn't…she's _only_ human," he commented spitefully. Trance looked uncomfortable.

"Look, Harper, there's really no point in…"

"And both of those worry me! You know, what if he thinks she's too inferior to be with him _officially_, but fine for a quick roll in the hay? What if he just _uses_ her, keeps her as some sort of human slave, I can't even think about…"

"So don't," Rommie's voice came from the viewscreen behind him. "Just calibrate and recalibrate my sensors until we can find her." Harper sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." He turned around, and with his footsteps a little louder than usual, he left medbay.

* * *

"No…oh no…" She stared at the tree in front of her, not willing to accept what she was seeing. "No…"

She clipped the branch off and closed her eyes, then shook her head and grabbed the three again. Lifting it up on a table, she took a closer look.

"I can't believe this," she whispered. "This…this ruins everything. How could he?" Trying desperately to search for another outcome, anything that could mean something else than what it seemed to. She couldn't find it.

Exasperated, she eventually walked out of the room, leaving the Bonsai standing on the table, unmoving.

* * *

"Anything yet?" Dylan said as soon as he entered the bridge. The holographic Andromeda gave him a glare.

"I would have woken you, like you reminded me fourteen times in the last five minutes before you went to your quarters last night, six times as you came in and eight when you'd gone to bed. I was terribly unlikely to forget had you only told me once."

"Sorry, I just…I take it that's nothing."

"I'm sorry Dylan. It's frustrating for me too."

"We don't have feelings," the AI picture on the screen argued.

"I want her back! And so does our avatar!" Holo-Rommie said, sticking her chin in the air.

"I know _she_'s emotional," Andromeda sighed on her screen, "but we are merely following protocol."

"If you want to be like that, then you can," holo-Rommie said, turning her face from the AI, "but I'm going to be looking for her!"

"So am I," the AI replied in a snotty tone, "I'm doing it because it's my Captain's orders, and she is a member of my crew, therefore it is my duty!"

"_I_'m doing it for those reasons too, _and_ because I care about her!" holo-Rommie replied smugly. Dylan blocked his ears and gave a little cry.

"Stop it! You know, I prefer it when you both gang up on me. You two arguing is just too confusing."

"Sorry," they both said in unison while glaring at each other. Suddenly, Trance rushed in.

"Dylan!" she said, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widely staring at him. He frowned, not really ready for any more of her mysterious speeches.

"What's wrong?"

"I…I was looking, searching the Bonsai, and, and…"

"What?" He was getting increasingly worried. From the look on her face he guessed she wasn't here to lecture her anymore.

"It's Beka's consciousness. It's gone."

"I thought she was unconscious before?"

"She was only sedated, Dylan, there is still a consciousness, it's just repressed. Now it's like it's just gone. I can't see it, not at all."

"What does that mean?" His voice shivered.

"Well," Trance stuttered, "there are other possibilities, just very, very slight and it's hard to see, but…"

"But what?" he cried.

"Dylan, this almost certainly means she's dead."


	5. Dead?

"Mr Anasazi, this is ludicrous."

"Why are you still talking to me?"

"I…I am merely stating a scientific…she has not given her consent to this, and what more; she could die. She could very well die."

"Well, you'd better make sure she doesn't."

"And these specifications, they're…"

"Is there something wrong with your hearing? Or perhaps it is your memory playing tricks on you? Because _I _seem to specifically remember exactly what I told you what would happen if you do not follow my orders."

"Mr Anasazi, I…"

"Quiet. Get back to work."

* * *

"Trance, do not tell me that, you did not just say that!" Dylan pointed a finger in her face. She slowly backed off.

"I'm sorry Dylan, I…"

"He wouldn't have kidnapped her just to kill her. That makes no sense. Could he be somehow making us believe she's dead so we'll give up the search?" Trance stood quiet for a moment.

"It is possible with very drastic methods to make a person appear dead to the point of their consciousness being invisible to me; but I doubt Tyr would even know about me being able to see it, and even if he did the chances of Beka dying under those drastic methods are high, I doubt he'd risk it if he really wants her for something."

"And there is no way to diminish those chances? Remember Trance that this could have been planned for a very long time. He could have taken all kinds of safety measures to ensure her well-being."

"It is…possible," Trance agreed, if it was just to please him for now he didn't know. She sighed. "This is not good, Dylan." He gave her an exasperated look.

"Oh, thanks for telling me," he exclaimed. "I had my suspicions that Beka dying may be a bad thing, but now you've confirmed it for me! Thanks Trance, that makes it a lot better!" She shook her head at him.

"It's not just that. Beka dying, it doesn't just ruin us, it ruins_ everything_. The Commonwealth, the universe even. I'm not sure…I need to find…"

"We need to find Beka, that's what we need to find."

"Even if she's dead?"

"Even if she's dead. There are chances that she's not dead, and right now I'm not sure what to think about anything you tell me, Trance. That doesn't mean I don't believe you, but…I think I need to see it for myself. Besides, if she is dead there is no way I'm letting Anasazi keep her body." Trance fell quiet and her head dropped as Dylan walked up to where Andromeda had been watching them interact quietly from the viewscreen. "I don't want Harper to know about this," he suddenly came out with, making both his companions' heads snap at him in shock. Suddenly, Rommie strode into the room.

"I know," she said as both Dylan's and Trance's mouths opened to start explaining. "You are suggesting we _lie_ to him?"

"I just don't think there is any point telling him at this point. All we have is Trance's tree to tell us this is true." No one replied to him, and he sighed. "You're all dismissed," he disclosed with a wave of the hand.

* * *

She watched her avatar walking back and forth in the room, clearly agitated. Eventually, she spoke up.

"This behaviour…it's irrational." Rommie looked up at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're getting emotional again. It's not productive."

"She could be dead, do you not care? When Tyr left…at least it was expected. At least we knew. It didn't really make it hurt less but…at least he's still alive." She glanced up at Andromeda, a tear slowly running down her cheek. "She's gone, and all you can say is 'it's not productive'. Do you feel _nothing_? Am I even part of you? Have you got nothing in there, aside from a database?"

Andromeda blinked off the screen, retreating to her holo matrix, where the algorithms falling and floating would surround her. She was safe here.

"There is no logic to sadness," she reminded herself. "There is no logic to tears."

* * *

Dylan stared at the viewscreen, watching the stars. They had both loved watching the stars, just sitting there silently, alone preferably, just watching. For hours sometimes. Now they were gone. Both of them; and just thinking of them hurt. One had turned out to betray them, and it seemed Dylan had never known him in the first place. One was probably dead.

He couldn't help thinking of both of them as dead though. Because Tyr _was_ dead, as far as he was concerned. The man who had betrayed them, who had kidnapped Beka, it was not Tyr. Especially not if he had killed her.

But he was still uncertain. What if there were reasons Tyr had never told him, motives that would make some things make more sense? He had had his suspicions when Beka was first kidnapped…what if Trance's findings were wrong? What if Tyr truly loved her?

* * *

She stared into the bonsai for what seemed like hours.

No change.


	6. Rosie Two

Thanks for the reviews! I forgot to mention it before, but I was grateful then too, lol.

Ilexx: Yeah, I think you've mentioned your need to strangle Trance now on a few occasions...:-p

Aerilon452: Heh, I love their relationship simply because it's so dysfunctional...

TriGemini: Did I mention how much I love long reviews:-D You've got pretty much the same musings as myself...

Purrfus: Sorry, I hadn't quite got the hang of linebreaks lol. I have now though.

Scorpio: Thanks:-)

* * *

"I present to you…" Harper made a dramatic gesture; "Rosie Two!"

"Rosie…Two?" Dylan cocked his head. This contraption certainly looked like 'Rosie', the bomb they had used to close the tunnel _last_ time Beka and Tyr had disappeared but… "Harper, there's no way you could have built another Rosie in such a short time. Last time it took you _months_!"

"Yes," Harper said, grinning and nodding, "but! This is not a real Rosie."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not an actual bomb. She's designed to look to the bare eye, and to sensors, just like Rosie, but she doesn't have the firepower to actually destroy anything. A scarecrow, if you like."

"And what are you suggesting we do with this…scarecrow?"

"Tyr remembers Rosie," Harper explained. "He knows what kind of damage she could do back in those days. If he _believes_ we have that kind of firepower…"

"…he could be so inclined to meet our demands," Dylan finished. "Good job, Harper. We could use it. May I just ask you…why didn't you tell me about this project?"

"Because I kept telling him not to do it," Rommie replied for him as she entered the engine room.

"You told him not to tell me?"

"No," Rommie clarified, "I told him not to build it." Dylan's head spun towards her quickly.

"_What_?" Rommie straightened up. Her face was a strict mask of determination, but if you looked closely you could see the sorrow in her eyes she was trying so desperately to conceal.

"This is a suicide mission," she stated tersely. "My first objective is to protect my crew and…"

"Your first objective, Rommie," Dylan replied, "is to follow your captain's orders."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Woah, woah, woah," Harper cut in. "You want to protect your crew, Rommie? Well, start with Beka. We don't _leave_ crewmembers behind. I don't know how the High Guard worked back in the days, but I'm sure they wouldn't have either! Regardless if we all die chasing after her, we're not…"

"That would apply," Rommie cut him off, her façade breaking as a sob made it through in her voice, "if the crewmember in question was still alive." Dylan shot her a deadly look.

"Rommie!" She looked up at him.

"It's not fair," she said, her High Guard mask now completely off, "it's not fair to let him do all this, to let him believe she's still…" Harper just stared at both of them. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and he was frozen, like a rabbit caught in headlights. "Harper," Rommie said softly, "I had to…I had to tell you. I'm sorry." It took a few moments for Harper to regain his speech.

"She can't…she can't be…"

"I'm so sorry Harper," Rommie offered.

"No, hey, wait a minute!" Dylan cried. "We don't _know_ Beka's dead!" Harper's eyes turned to him. Hopeful. He swallowed. "Trance thinks she is, because she can't see her consciousness. Now, I'm not going to try to understand Trance, but I can't take that as certain that Beka's dead." Harper shook his head.

"I'd like to be alone," he whispered. Dylan grabbed Rommie's arm and dragged her out of the room.

* * *

"We're getting closer," Andromeda stated on the screen.

"Dylan," Trance said, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"Even if Beka_ is_ dead," he muttered through gritted teeth, "I want her body back. He is _not_ getting away with this."

"They're firing." The ship shook with the impact of the missiles coming from the ships that had immediately set on an intercept course. Within a minute, they were surrounded.

"They're hailing us."

"Once he hears about Rosie Two, we'll be all right," Dylan nodded to Harper with a small smile. He didn't receive one back. "All right, put him through." To Dylan's surprise, it was not Tyr on the screen.

"Captain Hunt. Feeling daring today I see?"

"Very funny. I want to speak to Tyr Anasazi."

"Well, he is not available at present, iCaptain/i."

"This is not funny. I've got a weapon onboard my ship, one that Tyr knows very well. It can destroy your entire fleet. I want my first officer back, and I want her back now!"

"I don't know anything about your first officer, and Tyr is not available. As for you, destroying my fleet, don't make me laugh. Empty threats do nothing to intimidate me. My ships outnumber yours twenty to one, and I can easily call for back-up if needed."

"I don't want to fight this out," Dylan insisted, "just get me Tyr, or at least tell me where he is."

"He hasn't given me the pleasure of the knowledge," the Nietzschean said before terminating the communication, returning Andromeda's face to the viewscreen.

"They're firing."


	7. Awakening

Ilexx: You're just stroppy cause you have the answers and they don't:-p

TriGemini: Yep, still loving those reviews. Your musings are very good and accurate. :-D

Aerilon452: I promise, there'll be Tyr and Beka soon!

* * *

"Evasive maneuvers!" Dylan cried as shots rained over them from all directions. "Return fire!" He bit his lip as he almost ordered Tyr to take the weapon's station. Andromeda complied, but they were too outnumbered to get anywhere. "Trance," he cried, "you do it!"

"What?" she stuttered.

"You did well in the tunnel," he said, "no time to argue! Take the weapons!" She hesitantly walked up to it and looked bewildered at the screen. Starting to shoot, she was doing fine, but it wasn't enough.

"Dylan, at this rate we will be _destroyed_," Andromeda cried, "within the next twenty-four minutes." He hesitated for a moment, then turned towards her.

"Find the nearest slip-portal," he ordered, "Trance, keep firing. I want to do as much damage as we can before leaving."

"We're leaving?" Harper cried, the first words he'd spoken all day.

"We'll come back for her," Dylan assured him quickly before looking over at Andromeda. "Found one?" Her eyes were moving quickly back and forth, searching.

"Yes," she confirmed. Dylan flung himself into the slipstream chair. "Brace for slipstream!"

It was an extremely rocky ride, and both Harper and Trance had to grab on to the railings in front of them not to fall over. Dylan was surprised; the damages seemed to be more extensive than he had thought. It scared him somehow. In all the battles they entered, they always seemed superior, on account of Andromeda being such a powerful warship. This time that hadn't happened. Granted, they were greatly outnumbered but it still unsettled him.

When they finally exited slipstream he was exhausted. He turned to Andromeda.

"How bad is it?" he asked, dreading her answer. She paused a few seconds before answering.

"It's bad," she confirmed. "That trip took out most of what I had left. I think we can make it to Terazed but only just."

"We can't go back in?" Dylan asked. He had known this, but he had to confirm.

"No," Andromeda stated definitely. "We can hardly stay moving, Dylan. The route to Terazed I think I can do, but nothing else. They should be able to help us fix me up, but…" She paused.

"What?"

"I…I'm not sure about the amount of help they can offer."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure they'll help us with repairs, but the Nietzscheans…they are stronger than I predicted."

"You're saying you don't think they'll help us?"

"Dylan, if the Commonwealth attacks the Nietzscheans, it wouldn't just mean rescuing Beka. It would mean war, and the Commonwealth is not strong enough yet to win that war. I don't believe they would risk so many lives for one."

* * *

He took another swig from his bottle, trying to block out any coherent thought. It wasn't working, just like it hadn't worked yesterday, or any other day since Beka had gone. He was meant to help out with the repairs, which were taking longer than expected. It probably wouldn't have, if he had helped out more, but he just couldn't bring himself to. It was as if he had a big hole in his chest that wouldn't be filled, whatever he did. 

Dylan had talked, no, _argued_ with the government officials of Terazed for weeks, but they hadn't prevailed. Only Admiral Telemachus Rhade agreed, but he was Nietzschean. He probably only wanted a chance to betray them all anyway. Harper sighed, kicking his now empty bottle hard across the room. He heard a squeal and flinched.

Trance cried out as the bottle came towards her. Harper looked up at her and gave a sad little smile.

"Sorry," he mumbled, then frowned at the bonsai tree she had brought in with her. "Why are you carrying that around?" She sighed and sat down, motioning for him to join her.

"I keep watching," she mumbled, "just to make sure. But Harper, it's not going to change. I'm not saying don't mourn, but you have to accept it. She's dead." He gave a pained little sound as he leaned his head back against the wall.

"How can I accept that? Maybe if I'd seen her body, if I'd seen her die…but only having your word for it that the _tree_ told you so…"

"I'm not saying don't hope Harper," Trance said gently, "but I don't want you burying yourself in it. She lived a dangerous life, so do we all, and…"

"Trance," he cut her off. "It's really nice of you to, you know, try and cheer me up, but I'm not really in the mood. If she really is dead, then…I don't know what I'm going to do." Trance sighed and leaned back. She had the same feeling. Beka had been _so_ important for the future, and she simply couldn't see any way for things to work out now. She was scared for all of them. Of course she missed Beka but…now she was dead they would all die with her. Her eyes flicked past the Bonsai as she looked over at Harper, then quickly back again. She'd seen something, she was certain of it. Looking closer, she gasped silently. This couldn't be. It couldn't be true. But..it was. It definitely was. She looked over at Harper again. He…he was hurting so much. But she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell any of them. They'd bring her back.

She woke up, feeling very groggy and a bit sick. She was laying on a very soft bed in a large, well lit room. She looked around her and groaned as she sat up. Bringing her hand to brush hair from her forehead, her eyes widened and she screamed.


	8. The Honeymoon Suite

She laid back down again and closed her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths she looked up again and stared at her arms. There was no difference. She blinked. Clenched her eyes shut and opened them again. Still there.

Finally, she dared to stretch a finger out and touch one of them. She winced as the tip of her index finger raked against the cold bone, and touched the sharp tip. Was this some kind of practical joke? It had to be. She grabbed one of them, and yanked as hard as she could.

"Ouch!" she cried out loud. Ok, that was some good glue Harper had found. It wasn't quite like any of his normal jokes, but one never knew quite what to expect. She yanked again, harder and tears stung her eyes as she cried out yet again. She tried to rub the sore area, but was stopped by armbands, similar to the ones Tyr used to wear to protect _his_ boneblades when he still had some, except hers were silver in colour and adorned with tiny gems. She decided to leave the blades for now, hoping Harper had had the decency to get some form of dissolver for the glue he had used. If not, he really was in for it.

"_Funny…they feel so real…_" she thought to herself as her hand again brushed against one. She got out of bed, and stretched. Her back felt really stiff; and she wondered how long she'd been laying there. Besides, where was _there_? Looking around her, she realised she'd never seen this place before. It was beautiful though. The bed she had lain on had golden bedding of a material so sheer it glittered in the artificial light from the large chandelier in the ceiling. There were flowers and small palm trees scattered across the room, though Beka had a feeling there had been strategic planning put into it.

"_Trance would love this place,_" she thought briefly. And to be honest; who wouldn't love the place? Fruitbowls were placed on the various small tables, all wooden and adorned with perfect craftsmanship. The floor was wooden, but covered in a large forest green carpet that felt divinely soft against her naked feet.

On the opposing wall there was a large Edwardian mirror, styled with gems adorning the sides of it. It took up a large piece of the wall, mirroring the bed perfectly.

"_I wonder if this is some form of honeymoon suite,_" Beka mused. "_You could watch yourself have sex in that…_" She walked over to it and looked at herself. She was wearing a golden silky nightgown that ended just below her thighs and in a peculiar way seemed to have been customised to fit in with the rest of the decoration. She leaned closer and frowned. She could swear her hair was longer. Only an inch or so, but…it was. What was going on here?

She walked over to the curtains, the same colour as the bedding but of a thicker material, and opened them, gasping as she did so. She was on a planet? What planet was this? And why was she here? Shoreleave? This practical joke started to seem more and more unlikely by the minute. She closed the curtains again and turned around, taking a deep breath.

Right then she heard something from the outside, like a code being tapped in. Someone was coming in? She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and wrapped her arms around herself, wincing as one of the blades uncomfortably dug into her stomach.

"You're awake." Her eyes widened as Tyr walked into the room. He looked…happy, but in a down-to-business way. She shook her head before he could reach her.

"What have you done?" she demanded. "Last thing I can remember is being in the Maru with you, and…feeling very, very sleepy. Then I think I passed out, and suddenly I wake up here. And I've got these!" She held her arms up to him, pointing the boneblades in his face. He grabbed her wrists and kissed both her hands softly, then moved her over to sit on the edge of the bed. "This isn't funny, Tyr," she warned. "I want to know what's going on, and I want to know _now_."

"Is it not obvious?" He looked deeply into her eyes. "Beka, I meant what I said."

"You meant _what_ exactly?"

"I wished you were Nietzschean. Do I strike you as a man who will simply keep wishes, and not move to fulfil them?"

"Oh this has got to be the best one I've heard," Beka half-laughed, on the brink of hysteria. "You think gluing on some boneblades somehow makes me Nietzschean? What are you _on_ Tyr?" His hand moved to stroke her cheek and as she slapped him away, he instead placed it to rest on her leg. She wasn't overly comfortable with that either, but left it for the time being.

"With all due respect, Beka, I didn't just _glue on_ some boneblades. Nietzscheans are humans with genetic engineering. If Paul Museveni could make a human a Nietzschean…what makes you think I can't?" She stared at him incredulously.

"_What_ have you done, exactly?"

"What needed to be done…you will find some things about you will change. Your strength, your health, your physical need for procreation, to name a few. Your psychological values may take some time as that is something that is taught, not inherited by genes." Beka was stunned and could do nothing but stare at him for several moments, just waiting for him to start laughing and tell her he'd made it all up. Maybe he'd taunt her for falling for it. She had to admit though; joking like this wasn't a Tyr thing to do. And what he said made sense. If Museveni could do it, why not anyone else?

"I'm still human," she argued stubbornly. "You can't make me not human." He looked mildly amused.

"So, pray tell me," he gestured towards her as he leaned back slightly, "what about you is still human?" Before she could start, he added; "And remember, a Nietzschean is an engineered human, and that only, so saying you were born human will not help your case."

"I've got human values," she replied. "I don't want to have dozens of children. Being in a non-monogamous relationship doesn't appeal to me. I don't feel like I have to prove my superiority. I don't look down on humans." He chuckled.

"As I said, many values must be learnt. As for the primal _instinct_ of procreation; it will kick in." Beka shook her head, unable to take all this information in.

"And this room?" she said tiredly, gesturing wildly with one arm. "What's it for?" Tyr smiled and went over to the bedside table, the only table in the room without a fruitbowl but instead a single silver candlestick. He pulled out one of the drawers and handed her a box.

"Our first mating."


	9. Dinner and a date?

TriGemini: Yes, he is expecting a lot more than he can get...

Purrfus: Oops, sorry should have explained that better. No, Trance said that the lack of consciousness could also be caused by a coma, something Beka was placed in to have her alterations.

* * *

She stared at him with her mouth slightly open for a few seconds, before grabbing the box and throwing it across the room. The lid opened as it hit the wall, and two golden swirly bracelets fell out, hitting the floor with a loud clink. She wanted to verbally slap him, but the shock was too much to get anything sensible out.

"No!" was the first thing that came out, and she mentally scolded herself for not being more articulate, or at the very least, sarcastic. His first expression was that of total confusion, before he shook his head and gave a self-assured chuckle.

"Is that all you have to say? 'No'?"

"I…" she struggled to get her words together. "I thought the woman chose the man in Nietzschean culture. And as you have now decided that _I'm_ Nietzschean, shouldn't you leave the deciding to me?"

"In your human way, you _have_ already chosen me. My reply is simply…late."

"Oh! Is that right?" She got up and started frantically walking back and forth in the room as he continued.

"Before we left you spoke of love. Told me it takes you a lifetime to forget the ones you love. Nearly three years ago, you tried to initiate discussion on interspecies mating…"

"_You_ started on the mating part," Beka argued, holding her palm up, "I was talking about Rommie and Dylan."

"Oh don't kid me," Tyr chuckled; then gave her a serious expression. "You have been pursuing me for the last three years. Now I give you the chance, and you say _no_?"

"Oh, what did you expect Tyr? For me to fall down on the bed and say; 'Oh thanks, Tyr, thanks for changing my entire DNA coding without asking. Now come and take me!'?" The expression on Tyr's face told her that he _had_ been expecting some variation on that.

"Three years of your behaviour suggests you would choose me," he said, the calmness of his voice the very opposite of hers. She sank down on the floor and rested her forehead on her knees, hugging herself tightly. She wasn't sure what was going on anymore. One moment she was herself, Beka Valentine, human, first officer on the Andromeda, and now what was she? She was apparently _supposed_ to be Nietzschean, and now to be mating Tyr. It didn't add up. None of it did.

"Just leave," she whispered without looking up. She knew his superior hearing – should she still think of it as superior? – would pick it up, but if he did, he ignored it. Instead, he sat down beside her and tentatively placed an arm around her.

"I apologise," he whispered. "This has all gone too fast for you. I forget…" He trailed off as she held her breath, trying to stop herself from crying. Regardless of all that had happened, she was _not_ going to cry. Not now. Maybe later, when he'd gone. "Your ideas of courtship are different to mine. Maybe you need to get used to the idea."

"_I_ have to choose _you_, am I not right?" She was amazed with her own ability to speak with such a steady voice, but still thought it safer not to look at him.

"You are right. I thought you would – I was wrong. The human tradition of 'dating' did not occur to me, but I will indulge you. I suppose it wouldn't really be any different than displaying to the female I desire. I believe you are familiar with my cooking skills?" Beka twitched.

"The last time you invited me for dinner, it didn't go very well," she reminded him. He cocked his head slightly.

"Last time I was not quite the gentleman," he replied. "I can assure you, I will be all you could wish of me tonight." With a smile, he stood up and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" she called out to him as she stood up. He turned around, and she indicated to the skimpy piece of fabric one might have called a negligee. "What am I supposed to wear? I can't very well walk around in this." A quick grin told her that in fact, he quite liked that idea, before he shook his head and turned serious.

"You'll find anything you may need in there," he indicated to a door that almost melted into the woodworks, "it's your wardrobe that's been especially prepared for you, and there," he showed her another door, "is your bathroom. I'll be back in an hour. Please be ready." He left before she could answer and she quickly turned around, debating which to choose first.

"I have to shower _before_ I get dressed," she mumbled to herself as she decided on that route. The bathroom was none less impressive than the bedroom. The walls, ceiling and floor were all tiled in a beautiful sky blue with another carpet similar to the other one, but this one was dark blue, the colour of the clear night-sky on Infinity Atoll. There was a large bathtub that Beka immediately investigated. She pressed a button and within seconds it was filled with warm water. There was a series of additional buttons which she reminded herself to try out as she slipped out of the negligee, reminding herself never to wear the offensive garment again.

She slipped into the water with a sigh of joy. It felt like she hadn't had a bath for ages, and she hadn't quite realised how tense she was. Reaching her hand around the edge of the bath, she randomly pressed one of the buttons, and gave a pleasurable moan as the water started bubbling. Leaning back and feeling all her muscles relax; she tried to get a grip on the situation. She found it hard, near impossible.

She was Nietzschean. She couldn't get her head around the concept. She couldn't be Nietzschean; she was human! But now…she didn't really know what to believe anymore. And Tyr, he was a riddle all in himself.

Did he truly love her? If not, then why had he gone through all this just to get her as his own? Why did he want her so badly? She pondered this as she massaged shampoo into her hair, a lovely citrus scent filling the room. Did he actually love her? The thought was…strange, but, she supposed, not impossible. She dipped her head under the water, rinsing her hair out. She continued washing herself and then leaned back, closed her eyes and tried not to think.

After a while of joyful bliss, her eyes popped open. Tyr had said he'd be there in an hour, and while she wasn't sure of the time, she _was_ sure she didn't have much of it left. She didn't want to screw this so called 'date' up; it could be a source of well-needed information. She jumped out of the tub and wondered how to empty it, then decided she'd sort that out later. She grabbed a large towel which ironically matched the rest of the décor perfectly, and dried herself as quickly as she could. She ran a brush through her hair, but realised she had no time to dry it properly.

The wardrobe. She ran naked through the room and opened the wardrobe quickly, shutting herself in. Why she wasn't sure, there wasn't anyone else there. Turning around, she gave an involuntary gasp at the hoards of clothes that surrounded her. They seemed to be sorted by type, and then by colour. First hung the traditional Nietzschean dresses and colourful robes, which Beka discarded with a snort. Luckily Tyr seemed to have foreseen this, and had supplied the kind of clothes she normally wore. Black trousers, simple vests, leather catsuits…her fingers roamed across the clothes. Almost all of them were short-sleeved and those that weren't had holes in the sleeves to accommodate for boneblades. Beka found that slightly distasteful, but, she supposed, necessary.

He would expect her to wear something formal, probably from his "Nietzschean" collection. Therefore, she wouldn't. She ended up picking a leather vest and simple, figurehugging black trousers. She found it a bit tricky getting her boneblades through the holes for the arms, but she could suppose that was something she would get used to.

When she was done, she left the closet and walked over to the door. Now that she was decent, she wanted to have a look at this place where she was. She tried to open the door, but found it was locked.

"The bastard locked me in!" she cried out to herself, and started to pace, infuriated, back and forth. "That selfish, stuck-up piece of…"

The door opened behind her and she turned around to see Tyr standing there with a highly amused look on his face.


	10. Love me as I am

TriGemini: Beka and Tyr? Smoothly? Never:-p

Ilexx: That's the way Beka does everything...kicking and screaming!

* * *

She looked up at him, a little embarrassed that she'd been caught swearing at him, but determined to seem unfazed. His gaze fell appreciatively down her frame and up again, where he met her stubborn expression with a smirk.

"Nice choice of clothing," he commented. With the tone of voice he'd donned, she couldn't be too sure whether he was sarcastic or not. He _had_ however been the one to provide her with all the clothing she now had, so he couldn't dislike it _that_ much…Then she got annoyed with herself for even caring what he might have meant.

"I thought you'd have been happier with me wearing one of your more…let's say, _Nietzschean_ outfits." Damn! Why had she said that? Now he was going to think she dressed like that just to annoy him, which insinuated that she cared what he thought. Which was strictly true, but he wasn't supposed to know that.

"Not particularly," he replied, stepping up to her. His look had changed from the superior smirk to a rather soft, sweet gaze as he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers softly. "I prefer you to be you. The rest is there for common gatherings, social events." She wasn't sure what to make of this sudden turn. There was something so…innocent about him. No, innocent was the wrong word, there was _never_ anything innocent about Tyr. But he didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with what he had done to her.

What he had done to her. She couldn't seem to get it out of her head, but she couldn't seem to get it _into_ her head either. She should have been angrier, more upset. She should be _killing_ him by now. Yet it seemed her feelings were quite dulled. Had he done something to her?

Or…she remembered vaguely when her mother had left her. Her dad had come in, his eyes full of remorse, to tell her that she had gone. That Beka wasn't going to see her again.

She'd given him a blank stare, and continued playing with her doll. The day had commenced as normal, and while the question of why had been entertained in her mind, she hadn't thought much about it until a few days later, when she'd suddenly cried, and screamed, kicking all her toys about. She'd felt like her heart was being broken in half then, as if she was never going to be all right again.

Maybe that was what was happening now. It hadn't clicked yet. It was simply too surreal still, and her mind hadn't quite accepted it. She wondered if Tyr was expecting the click to come. Maybe he, with his superior senses, would be able to anticipate it.

Or no. His senses weren't superior now, were they? She sighed. This was all too confusing.

"Beka?" His voice pulled her out of her ponderings. "Shall we go?" She shook her head and pulled back.

"No," she said. Even if the full impact hadn't clicked, she wasn't a child anymore. She knew this was all wrong, and she wasn't about to let him entertain any thoughts, however remote, that she was fine with it. "I don't really want to go anywhere with you," she clarified. He frowned.

"You had no quarrels earlier," he objected.

"You didn't give me any time. You know," she pointed a finger in his face, "if you think you can get away with this…"

"I knew there'd be consequences," he cut her off. "I knew you'd be angry with me, but I also know that you'll see the good side of it."

"Oh really?" she snarled, while starting to walk away from him. He grabbed her back, and pulled her closer to him. She refused to look up at his face, but looking forwards gave her a good view of his neck, until he peered down, and his chin got in the way. She tried to pull free, but it wasn't working, and after considering and discarding the idea of stabbing him with her newly found boneblades, she gave up and looked at him.

"You want me," he whispered. "You've always wanted me. Why are you fighting it?"

"So," she was quickly debating whether to show this weakness or not, "you want me now. Now that you 'fixed' me. Well, Tyr, I didn't need fixing. And if you couldn't see that, then…" She swallowed the lump in her throat as she lost the context of what she wanted to say. He sighed and pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I understand you must feel bad Beka, but…"

"No! No, you don't! Don't you get how hurtful it is? I mean, _apart_ from my whole existence being altered because of your _whims_, how can I want to be with you if you couldn't even accept me for who I am? Do you have any idea how much it hurts to know that the only way you would have me is if you changed me first?"

"No," he whispered, his mouth buried in her hair, "but really, it is no difference from courtship of all ages." She pulled her head away and gave him a sharp look.

"Really?" she said sceptically. He sighed.

"It might not seem as drastic as a change of DNA," he started, "but really, that is what humans do. You marry a person, and then you try to change them. After a while, you decide you don't like the way they dress, how much they drink, their friends, their habits, and you will try to change them. Holodramas and romance stories will always preach the 'love you just the way you are' but it isn't true. You won't find anybody perfect. When you do choose your partner, it isn't the perfect partner, but simply the closest. There will always be things you want to change about someone. What I have done, is, in a way, no different than a woman telling her husband she doesn't want him to go to the bar and drink anymore, but stay home with her and cook dinner together." She pulled away.

"Oh, yes it is!" she argued. "What you have done would be the same thing if she had killed the bar-owner, blown up the bar and chained him to the stove." He let her go, and his arms fell to his sides as she sat down on the bed, and stared at him vengefully.

"Yes, mine is more drastic," he said, "but my point remains." She sighed. She had to admit, he had made a good point. He stretched his arm out.

"So, are we going?" She didn't want to go, but she _was_ very hungry. She gave him her best puppy-eyed look.

"I'm really tired. Can I just have something here?" He smiled at her and nodded as he went out. Seemed like he was doing anything to appease her now. She wasn't going to make it easy, though…what if he really only had done this because he believed it was the best for both of them?

Only time would tell.


	11. Typical Nietzschean?

TriGemini: Yes, arguments unfortunately don't tend to be so easy to resolve...

Aerilon452: That part might not be as easy as Tyr hopes. ;-)

Any Mouse: Not at all, but she has to play all her cards. Relax, it's not over yet.

* * *

She'd eaten her meal in silence while he watched her with a thoughtful expression. She'd tried to eat it as slowly as she could, hoping he would get bored and leave. He didn't however – and wouldn't initiate a conversation either. It annoyed her. She had somehow hoped he would say something to annoy her, an excuse to blow up at him. She leaned back and studied him carefully before giving up, breaking the silence.

"Reverse it," she said coldly. He didn't seem fazed, though Beka had learned he was a master of pretence.

"Reverse what?" So now he was playing stupid. Fine, she could deal with it. She held her arms up for him to see, the tips of the blades pointed right at him. The gesture didn't go unnoticed. "Beka, I did not give you those to intimidate me."

"I want them _gone_," she spat. "I want all of this gone! Take me back to whoever did this, and get them to remove it all! I don't _want_ to be Nietzschean, Tyr. I don't want to become a baby machine and one of twenty wives. I don't want _any_ of this, and if you had bothered asking me first, you'd know that!" Through the course of her speech he had walked up to her and now, he grabbed her wrists, just above the highest blade and looked her in the eyes with a menacing expression.

"It can not be reversed," he said slowly and calmly, all the while staring into her eyes. She took in a short breath as she tried to yank her arms away from his steel-like grip.

"You…of course it can be reversed," she stammered. "You did it, how can you not undo it?"

"If you baked a cake, could you extract the flour, butter, eggs, and sugar after it was done?"

"I…" she struggled to reply, "maybe Harper could take it away, I could go back and…"

"He can't remove it. Instincts, Beka, are already beginning to form, instincts that can not be removed by any human effort."

"How about perseid effort?" She heard a low growl emanating from the back of his throat.

"You are testing my _patience_ Beka!" He let go of her wrists with a shove that send her onto her back and only barely staying on the bed.

"Fine," she concluded. "Remove the boneblades then. I can live with the rest. I can just ignore it. Enhanced senses, and strength, maybe some parts of this will be good. As long as I don't live like a Nietzschean, or look like one. Take the boneblades away and send me back to the Andromeda." He gave her a spiteful look.

"No." She looked back at him exasperatedly.

"_No_? Tyr, you can't keep me here against my will." His gaze turned soft for a moment as he came up to her and stroked the line of her jaw tenderly, but it changed swiftly and he grabbed her chin, forcing her face up to look straight at him.

"I can, and I will!" he growled before rising and quickly leaving the room. Beka threw herself at the door after he left, but of course it was locked.

She turned around and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the lump in her throat rise inevitably. He wasn't coming back, was he? Sinking down on the floor, she began to sob in her hands, silently at first, but then desperately as she shook her head, wishing this was all a dream. It was hard to believe that only a day ago; or at least that's what it felt like to her, she had been heartbroken over Tyr leaving. Now all she wanted was to be rid of him. She never wanted to see him again.

She stared at the blades on her arms, and a surge of rage went through her. While tears still streamed down her cheeks, she decided that if he wanted her to have them; she'd put them to good use. Stabbing at anything she could get hold of, she managed to rip most of the bedsheets and the curtains to shreds, she knocked all the little tables over and finally stabbed all six blades through the large windows, causing shards of glass to fly through the air and hit the ground below. Too bad it was too far to jump, or she would have jumped, and ran, as far away as she could.

But if she jumped, she'd go splat. Her old fear of heights kicked in and she backed away from the window and turned around again, looking for something else to take her frustrations out on.

Rushing into the large closet, she grabbed the clothes hanging from the railings and chucked them all on the floor, ripping some with her blades in the process. She kicked them around before continuing to the bathroom where she crushed the mirror, and ripped the shower-curtain.

Finally, she slowly walked back into the large bedroom and looked around her, breathing heavily. She wasn't sure what had got into her. Suddenly she realised and her eyes went wide as she sank down on the floor, shaking her head.

"No," she whispered to herself. "No, no, no." But she knew what it was. The viciousness was not totally unlike her, but to this extent…there was only one explanation. Tyr was right about the changes going further than just boneblades. This was the work of an angry Nietzschean and she knew it.

After a few minutes, she heard the door opening again. Gasping, she got up. He'd be so angry with her for destroying the room so thoroughly. Her instincts again took over; deciding the best defence in this case would be to attack, so she launched herself at him with a ferocious cry, wanting to hurt him, and not wanting to hurt him. He knocked her down and fell on top of her, her wrists clenched above her head. Standing up, he surveyed the damage with a shocked expression on his face. She cringed as he turned around to look at her, expecting his rage at the destruction of the so carefully decorated room. Instead of anger though, he had a satisfied look on his face.

"I'm proud of you."


	12. Just like you

TriGemini: It's terribly hard to win against Tyr, he's quite goal-oriented.

daughterofdarkness87: I'm very glad to hear you liked it!

euphoric-acid: Glad you liked it, here's some more now!

* * *

She gave him a hateful look. He knew that was the worst thing he could say to her. Hell, she'd have preferred him shouting and screaming and slapping her around. Then she could have fought back, had a screaming match, maybe an excuse to hurt him, just a little. What could she possibly reply to this? She simply scowled and walked past him. He didn't follow her, and she had no idea where to go. Turning around again, she started to walk towards the door, knowing it would be open now. As she opened it, she felt him grab her arm, and was suddenly spun around to look up into his stern face.

"I don't think you're ready for that yet," he growled as he thrust her back, a little too hard and she fell flat on the floor. Though she knew his force had not been intentional, she wasn't about to pass up the chance to let some of her pent up anger out, and pounced on him.

He seemed surprised at her sudden attack; and this gave her an advantage. He fell flat on the floor with her on top of her, and without hesitating; she punched him straight in the face. His head, which flew to the side, quickly bounced back and looked at her with a shocked expression. She was about to punch him again, but he halted her process by grabbing her arm and spinning her around so that he was on top. He wasn't hurting her, but holding her in place, and her already overheated temper was getting the better of her. Her arm pushed down in the dip of his elbow, forcing his arm down, and while he was out of balance, she jammed his head towards her shoulder, forcefully jutting her lower body upwards, bouncing him off her.

Letting go of his head, she climbed up and made another mad dash for the door. This time she made it out in the corridor, which looked just as wastefully adorned as her room, before being dragged back kicking and screaming.

He let go of her as they re-entered the room, and she gave him a glare of pure exasperation.

"Let me go," she panted, feeling something she didn't quite recognise. Blood-thirst was the best way to describe it, and given enough time, she'd have pondered the reason for that, and probably tried to suppress it, but as it was, all she wanted was to see blood. His blood. He saw this, and looked almost wary.

She didn't throw herself at him straight away this time, but circled him slowly. He straightened himself up, and now looked almost untouched. This only served to enrage her more. Why wasn't he scared?

"I'm going to kill you," she growled. He raised an eyebrow.

"You are, are you?" The uncaring look on his face was too much to bear, but suddenly she had a thought, and smirked.

"No, that's true. I can't. I'm only a lowly human, aren't I? Can't compete against you big strong Nietzscheans." She backed off a few steps, though this set him off. With a growl, he walked towards her, a menacing expression on his face. His long braids whipped her face as he stepped closer to her, grabbing her waist painfully, holding her in place.

"Do not try to play me Beka; it is not in your best interest." Her breathing became uneven and she struggled to calm herself down. She grabbed his arms, trying to pull him off her; and another wrestling match commenced. Her arms flayed wildly, and eventually, the inevitable happened. A Nietzschean warrior had total control of their boneblades, but Beka was not a Nietzschean warrior, and she hadn't even had a day to get used to them. In her struggle to get free, she slashed Tyr across the chest, ripping his white vest and seeing it quickly stain with red fluid. He let go of her and she backed off, staring at the damage. He, however, did not seem mortally wounded as he merely looked up at her and cocked his head, giving her an ironic smile.

"Hurting me with the weapons I gave you," he commented. She refused to look at him.

"Perhaps you should have refrained."

"Perhaps I should have had them padded." He let out a hearty laugh as he stepped closer to her, attempting to encircle her with his arms. She struggled faintly, the energy somehow taken out of her. He suddenly pushed her off him and looked into her eyes. "You are evolving faster than I would have thought. The perseid did a good job." Her eyes widened with fury as she took up the fight again, fighting him off with arms and legs, though taking care not to stab him.

He didn't fight back, but merely held her still, letting her fight it off much like a parent and his toddler. Eventually she fell against his chest, sobbing. Her hands clenched into fists and she punched his chest a few days while crying loudly. His arms were the only things holding her up as her knees buckled, and he gently sat her down on the edge of the dishevelled bed, stroking her hair as he whispered calming words into her ear.

Eventually she looked up, and he saw nothing but desperation in her tear-stained face. His lips moved gently to touch hers, and she offered no resistance as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her, gently at first, but more forcefully as it came along.

Once he'd let go of her, they were both breathless. Beka wasn't sure of a Nietzschean's lung capacity, and she wasn't sure of how long it had been either, but she knew she was feeling shaky. She leaned her forehead against his chest again, not caring her hair would get blood-stained. It already was anyway.

"Tyr," she whispered. "I…I'll forgive you. I promise. I won't hold a grudge. I'll even…on some level, one day I'll understand." She looked up into his face, her eyes pleading with him. "But I have to go. You tried, ok? But I can't do it. Just let me go. Cut your losses, and at least you can say you tried to make it. It just won't work. I can't do this, I can't _be_ this. It's all wrong. You know that. You knew that all along, didn't you, really? Somewhere. I can't be a Nietzschean. I can't get married, and have your babies. You know that Tyr. So…just, let me go, right? You'll be ok. You'll find someone else, and I can go on my…inferior existence." He kissed his forehead.

"I understand," he said simply, his gaze soft on her as he stood up. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You do?" He was walking towards the door, and stopped, turning back to her.

"Yes. You'll get used to it." He gave her a merciless look before closing the door behind him, leaving her staring disbelievingly at where he'd disappeared.


	13. The notsoGreat Escape

Aerilon452: LOL, well I guess you could see it like that.

Ilexx: Such a vampire!

TriGemini: Still loving your lengthy reviews btw! No, you're right, Tyr is very adamant to get his way. (And so is Beka)

Carolann: They have a certain charm, don't they?

* * *

A few hours after Tyr left her, a couple of Nietzschean males had silently brought her to a different room, almost identical to the first one, just not ripped to shreds. They didn't speak to her, not even when she addressed them, and as soon as they had dropped her off in her new room, they left.

After that she had waited for hours, her sadness and desperation increasingly turning into frustration and anger, she parted the curtains and peered out of the window. She had a new view this time, and assumed she was on another side of the house…castle, or whatever it was. She was facing a lot of water, a sea or a lake, and a slight band of beach just below her.

She wasn't quite as high up as she had been earlier, though it was still more than she was comfortable with. She opened the window and bent her head down, the breeze blowing her hair into her face, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. Beka wasn't sure of the seasons of this planet, whatever planet it was she was on, but it felt quite cold. Pulling her head back in again, she started looking around her, and eventually, deciding she'd already trashed one room, she might as well do the other; she pulled down the long curtains with a sharp tug.

Moving over to the bed, dragging the curtains behind her, she ripped the bedding off and sat down on the floor. Finding one end of a curtain, she tied it onto the other one, and attached that to the bedding. After testing how long it was, she went into the wardrobe, where all her clothes had been moved. Pulling down all the long dresses, she dragged them out in the main room and started on those too. Eventually she had a long rope-like thing tied together, snaking all across the room.

First pulling hard at all the knots, making sure they were strong, she tied it to the bedpost and flung it out the window. It looked like it nearly reached the ground, and she figured she should be fine to jump the rest. With her heart beating like a drum in her chest, she tried to calm down her breathing, and slowly lowered herself down through the window. The breeze blew in her hair, and she felt her arms shaking, but she forced herself to keep going, as steadily as she could.

The knots seemed to hold, but she could see how strained the fabric was, and tried to hurry up, not wanting to fall. She climbed past a window, and the next moment, she was lying on the soft sand, with a splitting pain going down her shoulder through her back, and it took a while for her to breathe again. Luckily she hadn't fallen very far, but she'd had the air knocked out of her, and she wasn't sure whether she could walk.

_"I'd better try it though,"_ she thought and tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through her back and she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out in pain. She couldn't afford to be discovered, especially if she couldn't run.

How long would it be before he – or anyone else for that matter – came to check on her? How long would it be before someone walked past? She knew she had to ignore the pain and try to move on, even though it felt like her back had fallen off. Her head was pounding, and as she got up she felt a sudden bout of nausea, and had to lean over, panting hard, before getting up again, and slowly limping away, having no idea where she was going, but knowing she had to keep moving.

It felt like it took her hours to get to the end of the beach, her slow pace not helped by having to stop every few minutes to wait for the waves of nausea to be over. She knew she probably needed medical attention, but there was no way she was going to get that. She had to get back to the Andromeda.

_"Wherever they are,"_ she thought as she stopped again, looking around her. There were people there, but she couldn't see Tyr. She walked through them, trying to look as inconspicuous as she could. It was a bit hard considering the pain she was in, but no one seemed to pay her much attention.

_"Funny…if I didn't have the boneblades they'd all be staring as if I was some kind of zoo animal."_ The thought reminded her again of how badly she didn't want to be one of them. Whatever she had accomplished, whatever she was, it didn't matter, because she wasn't Nietzschean. Now, however, she could do nothing, sit at home all day and expect to be provided for, but she'd still be respected. A screwed-up view of what qualities mattered, that's what the Nietzscheans had.

She anxiously kept going, but she felt the inevitable nausea attack coming back. She stopped and leant against a wall, hoping the feeling would pass, but it didn't seem to. She took a few deep breaths and clutched her hands against her stomach. She noticed some people staring at her. Did Nietzscheans not get sick? No, they didn't, did they. Oh God, no…

She was suddenly very sick on the grass in front of her, almost falling to her knees. When she was sure she'd heaved everything she could possibly have in her stomach up, she weakly looked up again, her back aching worse now, but she quickly forgot all about that when she noticed a few women coming up to her.

"Let's move on, shall we?" one of them said tersely. "There is no need to display the defects in your DNA." Beka stared at her. So she'd been altered, and she was _still_ inferior? "Morning sickness I presume? How far along are you?" Beka was shocked, but decided to play along.

"Um…er…two months."

"I see. And how many children have you had?"

"Um…none." The other woman raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" she said dryly. Beka was about to reply, but a voice interrupted her from behind.

"Thank you Angelina, I'll take it from here." The woman, Angelina apparently, turned around, and her superior smirk immediately changed to a submissive look.

"Yes, Lord Anasazi," she mumbled before taking a step back, allowing Tyr to run his eyes over Beka, and place a protective arm around her.

"And Angelina," he added, "Rebekah may not have any children, nor is she pregnant, but she'll be your female alpha soon. You might want to pay her more respect." He turned around, and examined Beka. "And as for you," he said, in a stern tone, "we'll visit the doctor, and then I think we need to have a talk about following the rules." 


	14. Doctor Bheia

TriGemini: Love your philosophying...

Ilexx: Well, wasn't Elsbett "princess"?

Aerilon452: I'd love to be a little fly on the wall if Beka meets the Andromeda crew...

* * *

Tyr gently lay Beka down on the bed, which had a clinically white sheet on it. He had insisted on carrying her there, to her great vexation, although she had to admit, if only silently to herself, that it had probably been a good idea. He hadn't spoken to her since they left Angelina, and now he only gave her a stern glance before stepping aside, letting the doctor through. 

The doctor was a short woman with soft features, unusually soft for a Nietzschean, although maybe it had to do with bedside manners. She had long, light red hair that was loosely tied in a ponytail, and a white robe that reached just below her knees. Beka looked at her with interest.

"I didn't realise the Nietzscheans let women work," she said with interest. "I though they – sorry, _we_," she added spitefully with a glare at Tyr, "were supposed to be baby factories?" The doctor smiled at her.

"I'm infertile," she offered before falling quiet again, picking up an instrument from her tray. Beka's breath caught in her throat.

"Oh," was all she could get out. "I'm sorry." The woman smiled.

"That's quite all right. Quiet now." Beka swallowed and lay back, letting her do her work. After a while, the doctor turned to Tyr.

"She's got a concussion and a few fractured ribs. I've treated her, but she's going to need some rest." He nodded to her.

"Thank you Bheia," he said dismissively, before turning to Beka. "She'll get plenty of rest, believe me." He strode up to her bed, and picked her up. Beka felt nauseous again as he walked unnecessarily fast up the long corridors and stairs, before reaching yet a different room than the first two. Well, she supposed she'd managed to trash two rooms already.

_"I wonder how many I could go through before he runs out,"_ she thought dryly, before being unnecessarily roughly dropped on the bed.

"Ow," she objected, "Tyr! My head…" He glared at her.

"You," he pointed a finger in her face, "are an obnoxious little…" He seemed to be fighting his more aggressive impulses as he took a few deep breaths and stepped away from her, pacing back and forth before seeming to calm himself somewhat, and sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"What do I have to _do_ to keep you here?" His voice sounded restrained, as if he was trying to hold back the anger that threatened to burst at her. She pulled herself back a little before replying.

"Perhaps you could try being nice to me Tyr," she said softly. "You lock me in, you leave me here with nothing at all to do, the rooms are very nice, but I can't spend all day just _looking_ at it. You don't let me go out, you don't let me see anyone, you don't let me leave, but you won't give me any good reasons to stay." He looked perturbed and thoughtful.

"I was going to reprimand you, but I've realised there is no point." He laid down on his side, holding himself up on his elbow, while studying her intensely. "Perhaps you are right. I'm asking you to stay, but maybe I'm not quite showing you all the advantages." He seemed to be thinking about it for a second.

"Tyr?"

"Yes?" She hesitated for a moment.

"You said…to that woman…"

"Angelina?"

"Yes. You told her I'd be her…female alpha. What did you mean?" He grabbed her hand and kissed it gently, looking up at her all the while.

"I did tell her that, and when you marry me, you will be." She pulled her hand away forcefully and glared at him.

"So you're just assuming I will give up and marry you?"

"Yes," he answered simply. She snorted in response.

"You are so full of yourself." He looked amused.

"Beka, you have been chasing after me for years. It's just a matter of time before you let go of this silly, human pride-thing and realise the advantages marrying me would bring."

"Such as?"

"You would be rich, Beka. Imagine never having to work again. Never having to worry about money. Just look at these rooms I keep foolishly providing you with. You would have power too, not just riches. Power you can't even begin to imagine." She bit her lip. The whole fortune-thing was tempting, she had to admit it, but she wouldn't give up to Tyr.

"I think I can…"

"Also," he cut her off, moving uncomfortably close, "a Nietzschean husband is at his wife's beck and call. I think you'd find me…quite satisfactory." He leaned over her, his face far too close, and his hand stroking her neck. Beka scooted away from him and left the bed. "Beka…"

"What?" she snapped.

"Back to bed…doctor's orders."


	15. The Downfall of Boneblades

TriGemini: Yes, you're quite right, and he'd better not find out!

Ilexx: Heh, poor Beka, reduced to a plaything...

Kirt: Sure!

* * *

"You know, there's a difference between _"Doctor's orders"_ and _"Playing doctor,"_ Tyr," she pointed out in a voice dripping with sarcasm. He leaned over, his dark eyes glittering with amusement, and his eyelids clipping in that distracting way.

"Nietzscheans take these things _very_ seriously," he said in a low, seductive voice. "We certainly don't play."

"Shame," Beka quipped, "I like a bit of play. Nothing turns me off like a guy taking things to seriously." She shrugged with a smirk. "Maybe we're just not compatible." She walked off into the bathroom, hoping she could relax there without him bothering her. Perhaps she could take a bath.

With a growl, he followed her and hung like a hawk in the door opening as she ran the bath. She gave him an irritated look.

"Some privacy, please?" He merely raised an eyebrow.

"You will undress for me, it's only a matter of time," he stated arrogantly. "You may as well get it over and done with." She inhaled forcefully and pursed her lips together. Without really thinking, she picked up a bar of soap, and threw it at him quite childishly, storming out of the room. He spun around, laughing silently at her.

Lying back down on the bed, she closed her eyes and curled up with her arms around her. She quickly gave up that idea as the boneblades uncomfortably dug into her sides. Carefully positioning her arms under the pillow so they wouldn't rip the fabric, she then tried to relax and pretend Tyr wasn't there. Naturally, to no prevail.

She felt him lying down next to her, and groaned. He stroked the hair from her forehead and let his fingers gingerly stroke her neck. Moving his head forward, he started spreading soft kisses across her temple and down her neck. She slapped him away, but he returned. Eventually she turned around and gave her a pleading look.

"Tyr, I hurt everywhere, I…"

"Through every fault of your own," he reminded her.

"Tyr, please. My head is pounding, my back is aching and I feel sick. Just let me sleep." His gaze eventually softened and he gave a conceding nod.

"All right." He stayed, but lay down next to her silently and stayed still, giving her her space. She considered trying to kick him out of bed, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Just before she drifted off to sleep, he got up and put a blanket over her, and she heard him whispering.

"Don't worry Beka. I'll show you exactly why you want to stay."

She woke up with a gasp as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Looking down, she saw blood trickling down from a scratch-wound. It wasn't too hard to figure out the perpetrator. One of the boneblades on her left arm had blood on the tip of it and she swore loudly as she clutched her hand over the wound. She'd known no good would come out of those…things.

"What happened?" Tyr's voice came from behind her. She hadn't even realised he was still there.

"These…contraptions, they cut me in my sleep," she spitefully proclaimed, glaring at him as if it was his fault. Technically, it was. He removed her hand and studied the wound.

"You'll live. Perhaps I wasn't entirely wrong when I suggested padding them." She glared at him.

"Don't you…"

"Would you rather keep cutting yourself? You'll get used to them eventually, but I think I could do without ripped sheets and women until then." She continued to glare, but couldn't really argue against it. Damn, that cut had _hurt_. She decided to also glare angrily at the boneblades, just because.

Tyr had left, and now returned with a collection of flow-wrapped bandages. He wrapped them tenderly around each boneblade, making sure the pad stayed around the tip, creating a soft layer that diminished the sharp edge's effect. The end product looked ridiculous, but she did feel safer. To finish his work off, he carefully cleaned her stomach wound with an antiseptic liquid and attached a gauze pad. She gave him a pondering look.

"Was all that really necessary? I'm sure all these genetically enhanced nanobots will be taking care of it." He gave her a slightly mocking look.

"Nietzschean males always take very good care of their females, whether it's strictly necessary or not. If I didn't show I could protect you, what reason would you have to give me children?" She gritted her teeth.

"None. Which is, of course, no real deterioration from if you _can_, since I wouldn't give you any in that case either." His gaze grew cold and he rose to walk away, leaving her in her heavily bandaged state.

"I told you I would show you your reasons for wanting to stay there," he said as he paused by the door. "You just need to open your mind and realise it." She stayed quiet as she observed him.

"I don't understand how you could Tyr," she eventually replied quietly, playing with the bandage on one of her arms. "You know me. I'm not a baby-machine."

"Neither am I asking you to be one." Her head shot up.

"You're not?"

"I would expect you to carry my children, yes," he conceded. "But Nietzschean women _choose_ to have many. If you felt uncomfortable with it, a hoard wouldn't be strictly necessary."

"And other wives?" she asked. "I'm pretty monogamous." He looked a bit put on the spot.

"We'll speak later," he announced abruptly before disappearing through the door. Beka sighed and sank back on the bed. She still felt pretty awful after her fall. Oh well, at least now she could sleep without cutting herself up. 


	16. Think one thing, do another

She got up and turned on the light, going towards the closet which, not too surprisingly, was in the exact same place as it had been in both her other rooms, and found that, also not surprisingly, it had been freshly restocked with the exact clothes she'd had before, only crisp and new. She rummaged through the piles until she found something acceptable as nightwear, and changed into it. She again cursed the inconvenience of boneblades as she carefully slid her arms through the sleeve-holes, narrowly avoiding getting caught on the way out.

The sleepwear Tyr had chosen for her was a pair of loose girl boxers that hung loosely around her hips and stopped just short of her thighs, along with a small camisole with spaghetti straps and a low u-neck. Ending just under her navel, it showed a glimpse of pale midriff before the boxers started. The garments were both in a light blue, sheer and silky material that felt expensive, and it seemed to Beka like a more feminine and alluring version of what she normally would wear to bed.

Sliding back between the sheets, she decided she'd argue about sleepwear another time. After all, it wasn't like anyone was going to be watching her in it, except for Tyr, in his dreams. She smiled at that thought. She had to admit, it was a bit funny…Tyr Anasazi, superior Nietzschean, obsessed with perfection, and adorned with that strutty, I'm-better-than-you attitude…chasing after her. Refusing him was almost becoming a sport. She was slightly ashamed of it, but it was pretty fun. Even though…

It wouldn't be fun forever. Her smile faded as she thought of it. So far it had almost been a vacation, as if it wasn't really _real_, as if it was just a bit of a luxury hotel stay, bickering with Tyr, teasing…but if Tyr got his way, this would be her life. She'd never go back to the Andromeda, and the thought frightened her half to death. She opened her eyes, now unable to go back to sleep. She sat up in bed, her chest feeling tight, and suddenly, she was finding it hard to breathe. Walking over to the opened window, she looked out, and felt a tear rolling down her face.

Sparing all the attitude, all the sarcasm, what was behind she now knew to be genuine fear. What if she _would_ never get back to what was, in no lesser words, her life? Would she really be stuck here, with Tyr, forever? Would she ever succumb to his demands, become his wife and baby-machine, watching him claim woman after woman, until she was merely one of many, easily forgotten in a hoard of wives, all wanting Tyr? Would she stay stubborn, and be a prisoner of four walls forever?

The truth was, she simply couldn't _deal_ with polygamy. Tyr was asking _everything_ of her, willing to give nothing…and had she felt nothing for him, maybe it wouldn't have mattered. She could have hated him, purely and completely, without there being something else in there as well. He was asking her to give up every view, every conviction she'd ever had about life, and he was willing to give up…what?

Nothing, that was what. He was the typical kind of man she _didn't_ want to be with, the kind that would take and take and never give. The exact kind of man she normally fell for, and the exact kind of man with which her relationships would end in tears. She wouldn't do it, not again, not with Tyr. Even if he was a good person, a good man for her, she didn't share. She couldn't imagine sharing, not even someone she didn't care for, and Tyr…well, it would break her heart every time she saw him with someone else. Especially as she knew that there would be nothing she could do about it, and she would be expected to accept it as an everyday occurrence. At further thought, it probably would be.

A tear rolled down as she leant further out of the window. Her life…gone, and Tyr was too selfish to give it back to her. She hoisted herself up and pushed her legs over the windowsill, dangling them into the cool night air. It was too high to climb down now. Looking up, she realised she was almost on the top floor of the building, not far from the roof. Tyr really wanted her here for some reason.

"Tyr," she screamed out into the night, pausing as she swore she could see lights turning on in various windows. "Come here, you coward!" She waited, shaking her head as she realised she was being silly. She didn't really want him to come to her. What would she say? Asking him to let her go was useless, she'd tried that. So what would she do with him? Her plan so far had been to be cold and non-responsive, but she hadn't been doing that particularly well, and asking him to come to her certainly wasn't part of it. She abruptly swung her legs back inside and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over her head. It didn't take long before the door opened and she could hear heavy steps moving across the room and stopping just by her bed.

"You called?" he said sarcastically. She had to admit, she was pretty surprised he had come so quickly.

"Not me," she mumbled, "must have been someone else." She didn't look up, but felt his weight settle beside her on the bed, and his hand stroke her head through the blanket.

"It was the wives thing, wasn't it?" he asked her softly. She peeked up over the edge of the blanket with a frown.

"Huh?"

"That upset you," he clarified. "The multiple wives." She rolled her eyes.

"Actually, I think it was mostly the genetic mutation, trapping me in a room and forcing me to marry you thing, but I suppose the polygamy threat wasn't too pleasant either." She delved back under the blanket, refusing to let him have a say in the matter.

"Beka," he struggled for words, "the multiple wives, it's…an important part of Nietzschean tradition. You will understand in time." She snorted loudly, and he sighed. "Why did you want me to come to you?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "Maybe I thought you'd have come to your senses and for once, consider someone but yourself." He stood up abruptly.

"Let me know when you are willing to discuss this matter like adults," he arrogantly requested, leaving the room again before she could answer.


	17. A great honour?

  
A knock on the door roused Beka quickly, and she wiped her tears away before he'd come in. He didn't. Beka frowned. Tyr didn't tend to wait for her say-so.

"Come in," she called, her voice a little rough from sleep. The door opened to reveal two very young women, Beka guessed they were nearing twenty, dressed in much more conservative clothing than you'd usually see a Nietzschean wearing. The material were sheer, colourful and excessive, the light glittering in the swishing fabrics as they moved. One of them carried a breakfast tray consisting of what smelt like newly baked bread with honey, herbal tea, and a fresh orange. Beka had never had fresh fruit in her life, and she only recognised it from the image on the tins she could sometimes get hold of. She wanted to grab it straight away, to see what it would taste like without that distinct hint of aluminium, but something held her back. She gave both the women a suspicious look. They didn't meet her gaze, but instead looked at the floor, their hands in front of them. Beka felt a bit self-conscious in her newly awoken state, but would rather have some answers than be alone.

"Why are you looking away like that?" she asked first, both the women immediately looking uncomfortable.

"We have been told to show you the utmost respect," one of them replied after a few moments of silence, her girlish voice confirming Beka's suspicions about her age. "Lord Anasazi said you'll be his first wife, and therefore our female alpha." Beka cleared her throat.

"Right," she replied, "well…you don't need to do that, really. I'm pretty…non-strict about these things." They didn't seem to react. "Um, at ease?" She sighed. "Look, if you want to show me respect, please…don't. It makes me uncomfortable." The women seemed to go through an inner war before finally relaxing. Beka pulled up the blanket to cover herself a little.

"Were you supposed to be doing anything else?" The women looked uncertain.

"We have been assigned to help you with anything you might need," one of them replied.

"How about an escape plan?" Beka joked, but was met with blank stares.

"Within the confinements of this room. Lord Anasazi especially stressed that point."

"I bet he did," Beka mumbled. "So, what sort of things are you supposed to help me with?"

"We are to bring you food, help you with personal grooming, dressing, any form of entertainment you might enjoy…"

"I think I can wash myself, thanks," Beka cut in, a little put off by the thought of having other people bathe and dress her. The women nodded and stood to the side, both looking down at the floor. "What are you doing now?" Beka asked.

"Waiting for your command." Beka frowned.

"Are you going to be standing there all day?" she attempted to clarify.

"We have been designated here," one of them explained. "We will stay in case you need us."

"For anything else than getting out of here, right?" She was met by nods that seemed almost coordinated. She sighed. "Right. I thought all women around here walked around barefoot and pregnant. How come you are working?" She cursed herself inwardly as it was too late, remembering Dr Bheia. These women were obviously servants, and as they worked, they were most likely also infertile.

"We have not yet been married," one of them replied. "When we turn 21, males will start displaying for us, but until then, we're learning about the life of a grown woman."

"Right." Beka frowned, trying to figure that out. "And how do you do that?"

"Mostly we help other women to look after their children, and assist pregnant women. It all helps us to learn, so that we are ready when it is time for us to have children of our own."

"And how does being here help you learn?" Beka inquired. There was silence for a few moments.

"This is not part of our learning experience," one of them explained. "It is a great honour however, and will give us credibility among other females." Beka coughed with surprise.

"Great honour? To stand in my room waiting for me to ask you something?"

"When all the Nietzschean people are united, you will be the most powerful woman among us. That we have been trusted with the task of providing you assistance _is_ an honour. If you were expecting a child, it would be indescribable."

"United?" Beka was curious now. She thought this was simply a pride Tyr had taken over. A united Nietzschean people…that could mean trouble. The two women gave each other terrified looks.

"Sorry Ma'am," they both mumbled and looked down again. Beka sighed.

"So, how do you feel about choosing a man and having his children?" she asked, trying to get them talk to her again. They both looked perturbed.

"What do you mean?" one of them finally dared.

"Well," she cocked her head, "haven't you ever thought there's something else you want to do in life than have babies?" They both looked about to answer, then looked at each other and snapped their mouths shut, looking down. Beka waited for them to answer, then shook her head. "Anyone home?"

"Please do tell us if you need anything," one of them said mechanically. "It will be a great honour for us to assist you." Beka groaned.

"Oh never mind," she sighed and fell back on her pillows. Nietzschean women honoured to bring her breakfast. What was the universe coming to? 


	18. Nietzscheans have feelings

The two women, who's names Beka had found out to be Lana and Desdemona, had stayed with her for four days, arriving as soon as she woke up, and leaving after being prompted she didn't need help going to bed. It made her wonder when they had any free time, and whether the honour really was worth standing at a wall all day, waiting for orders that never came, but they seemed to think so.

Desdemona had shining red hair and sparkly eyes, and she seemed to be a little more bouncy and excited than a normal Nietzschean, although she suppressed that most of the time. Lana was more drawn back, with darker hair and a long fringe that she kept having the shake out of her eyes. She always fell quiet, like they both had at first when Beka decided to ask them about their choices and lifestyles, while Desdemona had over the days worked up enough courage to sometimes dispute her questions, which Beka was very pleased with. She wasn't sure what else to do with them, so she tried to keep up a conversation somewhat, even though it was very sluggish, and mostly strayed onto the same subject.

"So what if you never had a child?" Desdemona fell straight into Nietzschean mode.

"Then my life would be pointless."

"I don't have any children," Beka pointed out. "If my life is pointless, then why is watching me such an honour?" Desdemona hesitated.

"Tyr says you have good reasons for leaving it so long," she said, "but you do have plenty of child-bearing years left."

"That doesn't mean I'll ever have any."

"Tyr says…you'll have his children in due time," she replied. Beka frowned angrily.

"Tyr's decided I'm having children? Oh, that…" Lana, who hadn't opened her mouth for the whole conversation, suddenly gave a little whimper and quickly walked into the bathroom, silently shutting the door behind her. Beka forgot her anger and looked quizzically at Desdemona. "Is she ok?" The young woman pursed her lips and looked down.

"Permission to speak freely?" she asked.

"Uh, yes."

"She's inferior," Desdemona spat. "She can't handle it."

"Handle what?" Beka asked, deciding to leave the "inferior" part for now.

"She knows what a great honour being assigned here was, and if she left, she'd be shunned. But she's too inferior to be able to deal with your questions. She should be able to keep her pride and dispute them, or stay quiet to show you respect, while upholding her own values. She can't. She obviously doesn't have enough trust in herself and her family."

"I'm sure she…"

"She's inferior," Desdemona insisted. "But she still might learn. I won't tell anyone she's having problems." Beka nodded mutely.

"Stay there," she ordered, and walked towards the bathroom. Lana had sunk down next to the wall, breathing deeply in and out. When she saw Beka, she rapidly stood up, stammering quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll get back to…"

"No, wait," Beka interrupted. "_I'm_ sorry." Lana looked clueless.

"Ex-excuse me?"

"I shouldn't have pressured you. It's not my place to try to teach you anything. Your values are your values, and…well, I suppose your values are being forced on me and I…but that isn't your fault."

"Whose fault is it?" Lana asked. Beka hesitated. Tyr seemed to be a respected figure around here, and she didn't want to upset Lana even more by badmouthing her leader. She cursed inwardly.

"It's no one's fault exactly," she said, deciding it was better to take on Tyr on a one-on-one level, rather than upsetting Lana in the process. "Things like that just happen sometimes. _Just happen, my arse,_" she added silently to herself.

"Will it happen to me?"

"No, I…you have your pride, you can keep your values. I'm sure it won't happen to you," Beka tried.

"But if it did," Lana countered, "I would adapt, live with it, and accept it as my lifestyle." She smiled in a very non-Nietzschean way. "So will you."

In the middle of the long boring time between eating dinner and going to bed, Tyr suddenly came into the room. He bowed slightly to Lana and Desdemona.

"You may take your leave," he stated politely, and they both ducked out the door. Lana sent Beka a smile before she disappeared.

"So, you sent me slaves? You think I'd enjoy young, Nietzschean slaves?" Tyr chuckled.

"Servants, Beka. They're there for your comfort. It will serve them well in the future, and give them a good reputation. I assure you, they are not slaves."

"I don't enjoy ordering people around, Tyr," she snapped. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? I must say I'm inclined to disagree." She rolled her eyes.

"I enjoy ordering _you_ around," she clarified. "They are…well, I don't have a reason for ordering them around."

"And you have a reason for ordering me around?" he asked as he stepped closer to her, an amused smile on his face.

"Well," she tried, "we've been in dangerous situations, and sometimes you have to…"

"Females get to order their males around," Tyr pointed out, "but no one else's." Beka frowned.

"Ok," she decided, "I've changed my mind. I don't want you ordering me around." He grinned at her.

"Oh yes you do," he mumbled as he leaned in to kiss her.


	19. A Plan is Formed

At first, she didn't resist, but let him kiss her, just enjoying the feel of it for a moment. Standing her own against him could be much harder than she had thought, especially when he displayed his want for her so blatantly. Sure, he'd always been gorgeous, but stand-offish. She'd known she didn't have a chance, but now that she knew it was there…her mind said no, but her body screamed; "Yes!" She could resist her body though. She just had to think of the arrogance he radiated, and that was…well, it was a turn-on and a turn-off all at the same time. She collected all the will-power she had left and pushed him off her. He had that smirk on his face, as if to say "I won." She snorted.

"You're overestimating yourself Tyr," she said nonchalantly. "You're not irresistible."

"Your pulse rate's gone up by fifty beats a minute since I kissed you," he informed her arrogantly, "I can smell your adrenaline pumping through your veins, and…are you shivering?" She growled at him.

"Your own pulse is around 120," she replied. She could give as good as she got. "And you know," she pointedly looked down, "some things you don't need to be Nietzschean to notice." He gave her a smile and moved closer, making her back away until she fell onto the bed, where he followed, like a predatory cat. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her, but when he was crawled on top of her, held up by his hands on the mattress, she could almost feel the heat radiating from him, and it was pretty difficult.

"Why don't you just try it?" he suggested. "Just once. It won't hurt." She shook her head.

"And then be told I'm now your wife, to have and to hold 'til death do us apart? No thanks Tyr. I'm not so dense I don't know about Nietzschean mating rituals." He leaned down and nipped at her neck.

"How about one – off the record?"

"Right. And how do I know it stays off the record?" He smirked.

"Beka, your…attempts at hiding your interests are pretty pathetic."

"How so?" He moved his face closer to hers, until she could feel his breath on her face.

"You're considering my suggestion."

"I'm certainly not. Tyr, I'm not stupid. And drop the 'I'm irresistible to women' act. I'm not so weak-willed that I can't resist a nice body. And besides, I don't know how Nietzschean women are engineered – you could get me pregnant on the first attempt."

"Perhaps," he leaned down and started to kiss her neck, "but that _would_ be the point, wouldn't it?" She tensed and pushed him off her, sitting up in the bed, and smoothing out her hair.

"Sorry Tyr – I'm not interested." He stood up and threw his dreadlocks over his shoulder to smatter against his back.

"Perhaps those two young servants would be interested," he said as he turned his back to her. She stared at him, her mouth gaping.

"They are barely more than children, Tyr!"

"Even so, I'm sure they wouldn't mind some casual…entertainment. Are you telling me you were a pure virgin at their age?" She hesitated.

"Well, no…but I certainly didn't sleep with someone twice my age."

"What are you suggesting then?" She stood up quickly and walked into the bathroom, sinking down on the floor with her back against the wall. He walked in after her, and she ignored his presence until she felt his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said softly, making her flinch in surprise as she looked up at him.

"_What?_" He sat down next to her.

"I sometimes don't know – a Nietzschean woman is simple, Beka, she – she would just see me, decide she likes my genetic material, and pick me. You – I don't know how to do this with you. Obviously it's not as easy. What do you want from me, Beka? How can I prove myself to you?"

"You could let me go?" she asked him, knowing there was no point. "Tyr – being trapped, it's the worst thing I can imagine. You're holding me hostage, I could never," she paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "Are you _really_ this desperate, Tyr?"

"Yes," he simply replied. "I can't explain it but – when I see a future without you, Beka, it seems impossible. Undoable. Do you understand?"

"Are you saying you love me?"

"Love is simply but –" He paused as he saw the expression on her face. "I – I suppose that is a term one could use, yes."

"That's – as near a love confession as I'm going to get, I suspect," she smiled. He smiled back at her.

"Forgive me Beka; this is a whole new concept for me."

"And the marriage thing is…pretty daunting for me. Maybe we could try this out slowly?"

"So, you are willing to try?" She smiled at him.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips, before letting him wrap his arms around her. Placing her chin on his shoulder, a devious smirk spread across her face.


	20. Second Date

He kissed her, more heavily this time, and his hands started roaming across her back as he held her possessively. Pushing her back he urged her towards the bed, causing her to tense up and push back a bit. She managed to separate their faces and laughed nervously at him.

"Eh-heh, easy now." He looked confused.

"You said you were willing to try."

"Yeah…" She wrinkled her nose and searched his face confusedly. "But that doesn't mean I'll jump straight into bed with you!" He let go of her and stared at her incredulously.

"You'd deny me?" he asked, as if this was the strangest thing he'd ever heard of.

"Damn straight!" She sat down on the bed and leant back, resting on her arms. He swung his arms out in confusion.

"Why?"

"Tyr…" She tilted her head with a bemused expression. "You know relationships where you rush into bed often end quicker?"

"No," he simplified, "after you mate, a relationship can't end."

"Ah, well, nothing like Nietzschean tyranny to sort the matter." She smiled at him. "That just gives me even less incentive to sleep with you."

"So how exactly do you want to _try_ this?"

"Well…" Beka thought for a minute. "We could just spend time together."

"We've spent time together for the last three years; I doubt there'll be anything new about me that would convince you." She stood up abruptly.

"Well, if you're not interested, I'm not going to _force_ you."

"Beka, it's…difficult!" This seemed to have been immensely hard for him to admit, and she turned around with surprise.

"How about dating?" she asked softly.

"The human tradition?" he clarified.

"I am human." He grabbed her forearms and stroked the boneblades gently. She snorted and looked away. "You know you couldn't just change me like that, Tyr. I still feel human." He let go of her arm and nodded.

"Fine. We will do this dating. Get ready and I will come and pick you up." She raised an eyebrow.

"You mean I actually get to leave this room?"

"With me."

"Right."

"I'll be back in an hour." He left and she quickly turned around. She needed to get ready? Wasn't she fine as she was? She was wearing leather trousers and a green tank-top with a netting layer around the neck, and boots of course.

No. She had to make Tyr believe she was really interested in this. She went over to the closet and found a proper Nietzschean gown. It took her a while to work out which end of it was which, then how it was supposed to be tied, and then how she was supposed to walk in it. But it was nothing compared with the accompanying shoes, which Beka had to practice walking back and forth a few times to even be able to keep her balance in.

"The pains one has to go through," she mumbled to herself as she stumbled over to the mirror to do her hair. It looked fine to her, but she decided to sweep it up, in an effort to at least look different. She tried to smile at herself in the mirror, but the nervousity was quickly taking over.

This plan had to work, or she'd be Mrs Anasazi before she knew it. 


	21. Three Tricky Little Words

  
When Tyr came in, she walked out, intentionally making a dramatic entrance. It seemed to work, as he looked her over with a gaze not unlike human men's, but rather more controlled. She smiled triumphantly.

"You look…" He seemed to search for the right word. The word he thought she'd want to hear?

"_I bet he'd never have to tell a Nietzschean woman she looks good. I doubt she'd care,_" she thought wryly, a little amused.

"Very alluring," he finally finished. A little funny choice of word, Beka mused, but adequate enough. She smiled at him.

"So, are we going anywhere nice?" He smiled back, and, in a very gentleman-like manner, offered her his arm.

"I'm sure you'll find it to your full satisfaction," he replied. "Shall we go?" Amused, she took his arm, making sure to, just slightly, graze him with her boneblade. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't say. He unlocked the door and they stepped outside.

Beka had previously seen the corridor, moving rooms and moving back from the doctor, but she hadn't really taken the time to study her environment properly. It was, not surprisingly, just as elegant as her room, with unlit candlesticks on the walls, Beka supposed for decoration rather than illumination, but it did look very nice, along with the wall-paintings that she, after studying, guessed were of various Alphas and Matriarchs.

"What are you thinking?" She twitched out of her thoughts and smiled at him.

"Just admiring the décor." He nodded.

"Yes, I am very pleased with the way it's turned out. What's the point in being an Alpha if you can't live in a beautiful home?"

"I thought it was more about the domination?"

"It is. However, there is nothing wrong with wanting a certain level of…class and comfort." She tensed a bit. He almost sounded like her dad when he said that. Biting her lip, her thoughts started to wander where she didn't want them to go. What would her dad make of this situation? It was a tricky one, but it tended to be where she went when facing a crossroad like this. It _was_ what he'd always been looking for, a rich and comfort life, _The Big Score_…But it came at the price of her independence, something else he'd always told her to look after. Not that he followed his own advice very well…she swallowed. She hadn't earned it, and besides, she hadn't been looking for The Big Score in a long time, not since she joined Dylan. She couldn't stay here, she'd miss her friends, and she'd be doing absolutely no good sitting around being Tyr's good little wife.

"Are you all right?" She twitched, and smiled at him.

"Yes! Yes, I'm fine." She smiled. "Just feels funny being out of there."

"In a good way, I trust?"

"Yes, definitely." She smiled. "Would you consider letting me go out a bit more? Accompanied, of course." She tried not to let the ridiculous sound of her request to make her angry. Why should she need his permission to go anywhere? She was not a prisoner, she had done nothing wrong, and yet she had to be grateful she was being let out of her room. He didn't seem to catch on, and she congratulated herself for her acting abilities. Another thing she had her dad to thank for.

"I will consider it," he replied thoughtfully. "I suppose there could be no harm in it. Ah, here's the place for our…date." He directed her into a room that nearly made Beka gasp in awe. It reminded her of their first, albeit quite failed, date in the obs deck, but times ten. He smiled at her as her eyes wandered over the room, where automatic lights had been switched off, and candles lit it up, hanging on the walls, and placed on tables along with complex flower arrangements.

Finally, they sat down, and servers came in to unveil food Beka couldn't quite name, but it looked delicious. The servers eyed her in a discreet, but still uncomfortable way. As soon as they left, Beka leaned towards Tyr.

"Why were they looking at me like that?"

"Don't mind them," he replied dismissively with a wave of the hand. "They have…heard much about you, and are merely curious." She frowned.

"For the same reason Lana and Desdemona found it such an _honour_ to stand in my room for hours on end?"

"Yes," he replied simply. "Because you will be a very, very powerful woman, and they are all very curious about the woman for whom I have turned down plenty of willing females." She bit her lip and looked at him uncertainly.

"Why?"

"Because it is an honourable thing, it proves your worth as a…"

"That's not what I meant," she cut him off sharply. "I mean, why have you turned them down? You made it pretty clear you didn't intend to be monogamous…" She didn't attempt to hide the upset in her voice, but he ignored it.

"A first wife is very special, Beka. If I married someone else before you, it would reduce your status, and our relationship, significantly."

"And you don't want that because…?"

"Beka. I did what I did for a reason. I believe you know that."

"Yes, I know. And I might even be in a position to forgive you eventually, but I'd like to hear it." She looked up at him through her eyelashes, and he drew a breath, looking very uncomfortable.

"Because I care about you, because you are…worthy of being my wife. Because I hold you in a very high regard, and I…" It didn't sound right, and Beka started to feel very uncomfortable, wishing she hadn't asked.

"Ok, ok, that's quite enough." He looked puzzled.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no," she hurried. "I just…the food might get cold." He nodded and motioned for her to start. As she lifted her fork, she stole another glance at Tyr.

She'd have to take it slow, but maybe, just maybe this would work out. 


	22. Break His Heart

  
He led her back into her room, and she went without a fight. When she came in, she turned around, grabbed both his hands and smiled at him a little shyly. Quickly, she leaned up to kiss him, meant as a simple gesture, but he held her there, and she relented in his warm softness, keeping it close for just a moment before letting go, dropping down from her tip-toes and taking a step away.

"Thank you. That was…" She paused. What do you say to a man who kidnaps you and then tries to win you over by waving his riches around? "…lovely," she finished, deciding her real feelings were better kept in check for the time being. He nodded at her, then lifted her hand gently to his lips and kissed it, glancing at her through his long eyelashes.

"You truly are magnificent, Beka Valentine," he replied. "And I continue to marvel at you for each day that passes." His hands cupped her face, and his eyes seemed to follow them as he moved them down, caressing her neck and her shoulders, until they came to rest on her abdomen, where they stopped, and lingered. She thought she could see something flash in his eyes, a kind of longing perhaps, and she couldn't help feeling as if she was intruding on something deeply private. Something he only wanted to share with one person, and that he seemed to believe could be her. She swallowed, feeling guilty for what she was sure it was not her place to feel guilty about.

It only lasted a moment, and his hands suddenly left her, abruptly as if she'd somehow burnt him. She stared up in his face, uncertain.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a completely different voice. "I…taking liberties, not my place." He quickly turned around to leave, but stopped at the door and turned his head, looking at her. "I will be available at this audio channel," he threw her a tiny communications device, "don't hesitate to call for anything you need."

Speechlessly, she stared at the closing door, at the device in her hand, and at the door again.

Something was different.

He hadn't had any quarrels like this before. In fact, ever since she'd been here, she remembered an arrogant Tyr, one that wouldn't listen to anything she had to say. What had changed? Suddenly, it seemed he cared more about her feelings than his own, as if he respected her in a way he never had before.

And then it struck her.

He now saw her as he would see a mate. Or, at least a very potential one. At first, when she'd been shouting and screaming at him, all he'd wanted was to keep her around, and quiet her down. Now, she had, in his view, chosen to be with him, even if not officially yet. She _had_ basically promised marriage, in Nietzschean views.

She sighed and sat down, wiggling her feet about after kicking the uncomfortable shoes off. The food had been lovely, even Tyr had been lovely, which she had a good explanation for. She assumed that was what their relationship would be like, more or less, as a Nietzschean husband always treated his wife with uttermost respect. Well, that did not include Tyr's _last_ wife, Beka realised as she pulled the hairpins out, shaking her hair over her shoulders. Leaving your wife like that, after condemning her people, it didn't seem very nice. She sighed.

He wanted a child. It was fair to make the assumption that that had been in his mind when he'd stood there, his hands where they were. Obviously not just any child. Her child. The idea did not quite appeal to her, but it felt less _un_appealing than it had in the past. That scared her more than _Tyr's_ longing. Was the Nietzschean mindset already being slowly set into her, through genetics? She realised she would never have a truly Nietzschean image of the universe, not having been raised as such, but just how far could purely genetics take her? How much did it influence her? Was it just instincts, or did it somehow reach her subconscious, delve into her mind…

"I should have studied biology better," she mumbled to herself, shaking her head and trying to rid her thoughts of the matter. She would not become human again, but when she left, Andromeda could remove her boneblades, no one would have to know she was Nietzschean. Or, if not, she could get used to it. There were Nietzscheans on Terazed, it wasn't like they were _all_ against humans, wanting to destroy the Commonwealth. As long as she wasn't _among_ Nietzscheans, she would be ok. As long as she didn't allow Tyr too much influence.

She undressed slowly and filled up the bathtub, wanting nothing more than a long, relaxing bath to clear her mind. As she stepped in, her thoughts returned to what he had said before.

_ "Because I care about you, because you are…worthy of being my wife. Because I hold you in a very high regard, and I…"_

Carefully avoiding those three little words, but was it because he couldn't get himself to say it, or because it wasn't what he felt? She had a feeling it would really matter, and she had to know. Swallowing, she picked up the communications device and paused.

If it wasn't love, if he only _cared_ for her, doing what had to be done wouldn't be so difficult. Pressing the button, she spoke.

"Tyr?" It took a while for his voice to return her call.

"Yes?"

"I had to know…" She paused. "When I asked why you wanted me as your first wife, you answered…" Swallowing, she tried to continue. "You danced around the question, you…you know what I'm asking." There was a pause, and she heard Tyr take in breath slowly.

"Beka," he clarified, "I love you." His voice sounded strained, and she imagined it wasn't something a Nietzschean would normally say – perhaps even feel. Quickly, she turned the communications off, dropped the device back on the table and sunk her head under the water, blowing little bubbles that popped as they hit the surface.

Damn.

It would take a while for her plans to work, she didn't expect him to just decide to trust her as soon as she claimed to change her mind, but it would be hard. Somehow plans were always so much easier when no one's feelings were involved…when it was all about facts, all about being a dare-devil. It wasn't like that this time. To save herself, she had to defeat him.

To defeat him, she had to break his heart. 


	23. More to Lana

**Sorry for the major delay...again...**

"Lana?" Beka suddenly asked, and the dark-haired woman quickly whisked her fringe away and rushed to her side. "Can I speak to you for a moment?" Out of the corner of her eye, Beka saw Desdemona holding back a stout expression, and she felt a bit apologetic as she left the room with Lana. The only choices seemed to be the closet, or the bathroom, so Beka made a quick choice, and pulled Lana into the larger of the two. Sitting down on the tiled floor, she motioned for the other woman to join her.

"Whatever we talk about, Desdemona will demand to know once we get out of here," she warned. Beka turned her gaze down and thought quickly.

"I don't want to put you in a bad situation…" She bit her lip. "I'll trust you to keep quiet, but if that doesn't sit right with you…"

"It's not about an escape plan, is it?" Lana asked tentatively. "Because if it is, I think I'd rather not know." Beka felt a kind of warmth spreading through her at the words. Lana seemed very true to her upbringing, but the thought that finding out about Beka's escape plans would put her in a dilemma, and that telling wouldn't be a matter of course was…flattering. It felt almost as if she had a friend in all this confusion. Still, she couldn't put that kind of weight on the girl's shoulders.

"No, it's nothing like that," she reassured her. "It's more like…girl talk." She remembered briefly the few sessions she'd had with Trance and Rommie in the Maru, which, while certainly interesting, hadn't in the very least resembled the girl talks she'd had as a teenager. Lana looked relieved and sat down. She also looked proud, which wasn't a very common expression. Perhaps it had something to do with the way she perceived Beka? _Female Alpha_…If it was an honour to wait on her, what an honour would it be to be the person she confides in? Beka swallowed. She didn't like to feel important, not like this, and especially not just because an important man had chosen her to be.

"I'm…not sure what I can say to help you," Lana commented. "I'm not as…I mean…"

"I'm older than you, yes," Beka cut off with a smile. Lana blushed.

"I was going to say experienced. Same thing, I suppose."

"Not necessarily. But you're wrong…I do think you can help. I mean; I just want to hear your opinion, really." Lana looked terrified for a moment.

"On Tyr? Ma'am, I…"

"Beka."

"Sorry?"

"Don't call me Ma'am, it sounds so…" She struggled for words. "Just don't," she concluded.

"I'm sorry. What did you want to ask?"

"I know you're not due to choose a husband yet, but I trust you've been looking, considering, thinking?" Lana blushed.

"A…a bit. My mother, she teaches me, and the older women of the family. What to look for in a husband, which qualities are essential, which are desirable, which are non-desirable…"

"What about love?" Lana looked bewildered.

"Love is merely a trick the…"

"…DNA plays on us to reproduce," Beka finished for her. "Last night…" She took a deep breath. "Tyr told me he loved me." There was silence for a few moments.

"Perhaps he…" She shook her head. "Never mind."

"No," Beka urged her, "tell me."

"It's not my place." The look she was given made her sigh and relent; "Perhaps he was trying to please you. It's not that I doubt he wants you, but what you think of as "love", Nietzscheans don't believe in. We have the same feelings; we just know to appreciate the qualities in a person without the emotions around it."

"I'm not really sure what you're saying."

"I think that…he does _love_ you, in your sense of the word, but in a Nietzschean way that is to appreciate someone's qualities, see a good wife or husband, and parent in them, it's not…very romantic."

"I have another question for you too. If…someone's romantic…or otherwise, proposal is rejected, what happens?" Lana looked a bit confused.

"Nothing. The rejected female would be humiliated, and the male would be questioned. If there is no obvious defect that made him reject her, everything would go on as normal, if there is, she may find it difficult to find another husband. But I doubt there's any chance _Tyr_ would…"

"I know," Beka cut her off. "Is there a Nietzschean version of heartbreak?"

"Women hold the key to a man's ability to reproduce, if one man is stupid enough to deny her, there will be others."

"And if…it's the other way around?"

"Well, men don't choose women, but I believe it can be quite difficult for them if they've chosen a woman to display for, and she chooses another. Still, they move on." Her eyes suddenly widened. "You're not thinking of…?"

"This is a strictly hypothetical situation, of course," Beka replied sternly.

"Well, in that case…" Lana tilted her head and looked very serious for a moment. "I'd say there are certain hypothetical situations where females let their emotions control them too much in their choice of males. Sometimes we just have to see our purpose for what it is; to reproduce, to have a husband who protects us…to turn down a man with the qualities of _Tyr_ would be quite foolish." She stood up. "But of course, that's strictly hypothetical."

The smile she gave her as she walked out gave Beka a pang in the chest, something familiar, something that looked just like someone else she knew…  



	24. The Ball

She smiled at Tyr as he entered the room. It almost came naturally now, and it scared her how the initial hatred she'd felt for him was wearing down. Nowhere near enough to actually stay with him, but still…she didn't even feel all that angry with him anymore. He stretched out his hand and she took it tentatively, wondering what he was up to.

"I thought perhaps a walk in the gardens tonight?" he suggested. "I have something important to talk to you about." She felt a nervous pang in her chest, and swallowed the lump in her throat before nodding quickly. He gave her a concerned look. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she replied quickly. "Just a bit of a sore throat." He frowned. Oh crap. Nietzscheans didn't get colds, did they?

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think I…got some crumbles stuck earlier, I kept coughing." It was a terrible excuse, but all she could think of at the time. He seemed to accept it however, and unlocked the door to lead her out of her room. She opened her mouth to ask when she'd be allowed out on her own, but decided it better not to push the issue. The last thing she wanted him to be was suspicious of her motives.

"The gardens are lovely in the moonlight," he told her as they walked down the corridor. "It's a full moon tonight."

"You planned this?" He gave her a quick smile.

"I guess you could say that." They walked out in the garden, and, Beka had to admit, it did look much different in the moonlight. The large fountain was shooting up water in the air, which then streamed down the sides. She sat down and dipped her hand into the water, letting it slide through her fingers, and then trickle back down into the fountain as she lifted her hand back up. Tyr sat down next to her, and the spell broke as she stood up, looking around her.

"I can't believe no one else is here, it's beautiful," she commented. He cleared his throat, and she looked over at him, grinning. "You told everyone not to come out." He walked up and put his arms around her, caressing her neck gently.

"I expressively forbad it," he explained. "I wanted this place all to ourselves tonight." He leaned in to kiss her, and she let him, allowing herself to enjoy it, just for a moment. "Just a moment" however, proved difficult, and she couldn't help herself but to indulge.

_"It's only so it won't seem suspicious,"_ she thought to herself, uncertain if she was thoroughly convinced. She broke the kiss after what seemed an appropriate amount of time, and smiled at him. "You said you had something to talk to me about."

"Ah yes." He failed to look her in the eye, instead caressing the silver armbands she wore around her boneblades, admiring each gem. She preferred them to the padding she'd worn for a while. Intently, she stared at his face, trying to will him into looking at her. "I wanted to speak to you about something."

"I realised that," Beka said with well kempt annoyance. "What is it?"

"Next week, there is a ball being held at the palace. I would like you to attend."

"Attend…a ball?" Beka's head spun. A ball…crowds, people…it would be the perfect opportunity to slip away quietly. Tyr couldn't lock in everyone simply to keep her in check.

"I also wanted to ask you…have you thought anymore about..." He trailed off. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask." It amused Beka how Tyr, usually so dominating and decisive, took such a backseat when it came to this marriage. She kept having to remind herself it was a normal part of his culture, but…she couldn't help finding it amusing.

"I have." She tried to look timid. "I've just been…looking for the right moment." Staring up into his eyes, with the moonlight shining above them, faking the romantic moment didn't seem so hard. _"No, damn it!"_ she thought angrily. _"I don't care for him like that. I_ hate _him!_" Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she returned to Tyr. "Perhaps…" She cleared her throat.

"What?"

"Perhaps the ball is the right moment. It seems…appropriate somehow. The first time you introduce me to your people, and we share a marriage at the same time." He looked overjoyed for a moment, but hid it quickly.

"Beka, when you want to marry me is your choice. Choose the moment as you will. All I'm concerned about is having you as my wife, and I will be ecstatic whether it is during the ball, or in a dustbin." She smiled as he leaned in to kiss her. She knew he was only doing the "Nietzschean women decide" thing. He couldn't think of anything better than marrying her at the ball, in front of his people, swelling with pride as she chose him…

It was strange how she was almost looking forward to it. She nearly brought the subject up of monogamy, seeing if he'd changed his mind, or was at least willing to discuss it, before reminding herself it didn't matter. She wasn't marrying him. She could not fall for his charms. If she did, everything would be ruined.

One more week. One week, and then it would all be over. 


	25. A Beauty in Plastic

"You look beautiful," Lana smiled as she fixed the last piece of hair onto Beka's head with what seemed like the millionth hairpin. It wasn't easy, but when she looked in the mirror, she had to admit that it was true. The dress alone must have cost more than she even dared to imagine, the cascading fabrics overlapping again and again, each shimmering thin layer adorned with hundreds of tiny pearls, falling just short of skimming the floor as she walked. The fabrics were a light blue, but shimmered in green, turquoise, and purple as she moved in the light, and the sleeves were short to proudly display the blades at her forearms. Her hair had been worked on for hours, and put up in a loose, yet carefully planned out to the last strand, bun on her head, a few devotedly corkscrewed curls falling down to frame her face. A necklace hung around her neck, Lana had said it was from Tyr. It was adorned with tiny jewels across the entire chain, the colour matching exactly that of the dress, and similar jewels hung from her ears. She blinked a few times, trying to figure out whether the aristocratic-looking Nietzschean in the mirror was really her. Once she'd figured out it was, she smiled at Lana.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little weak. "I guess all that time spent was worth it." The young woman nodded happily at her.

"I'm attending the ball too," she said, "but only for a short time. I'll be serving food and drinks, so I hope to see you there." Beka threw a glance at the time.

"Don't you need to start getting yourself ready then?" she enquired. "It's taken me hours, and the ball starts in forty minutes." Lana shook her head.

"I'll go soon," she said, "but there's no rush. It won't take me nearly as long."

"Why not?"

"Tyr is presenting you as the female alpha of our people tonight," she explained, "it's important you look more beautiful than anyone else. In fact, it would be seen as a disgrace for anyone else to surpass you." Beka smiled nervously.

"Wow, no pressure," she mumbled sarcastically.

"Don't worry," Lana reassured her, "you look perfect."

"Indeed she does." Both women turned to see Tyr standing at the door, a smile playing on his lips. He was wearing his usual leathers, polished to a shine, and Beka briefly wondered with some sarcasm how long it had taken _him_ to get ready. Lana smiled and excused herself quickly.

"Are you still sure about this?" She nodded cautiously.

"Yes, I've made my decision." A broad smile split his face.

"Good. I'm looking forward to tonight." A shiver ran down her spine before she reminded herself that this was all fictional, and she was only playing along with it. Nothing was actually going to happen. "I will escort you to the ball, and I will introduce you to some of the more important people in my council. Once I am certain everyone who needs to be there has arrived, I will tell you, and you can make your declaration. Is that all right?"

She nodded. Did it matter? "Yes, that's fine," she said, her voice a little weak. She wondered at what point she would escape, and how. The plan that had formed in her head still wasn't clear, and it seemed much more difficult now that it was near.

Leaving after marrying him seemed unnecessarily cruel, and she wasn't sure whether that would lead to legal obligations, helping Tyr to recapture her. However; if he was to be with her all the time until then, escaping could prove difficult. If she was lucky, he would be pre-occupied with one of his council members, and perhaps she could excuse herself to go to the bathroom, or fetch some drinks. In any case, a safe escape was worth his public humiliation, and if she had to, she'd do it. He stepped a little bit closer and handed her a box. She recognised it, and knew what it was immediately.

"It's the same ones I gave you the first night you were here," he said. "I hoped…you'd be more receptive to them this time." She nodded, clenching them in her hand.

"Yes…I wasn't ready then."

"I understand that now, and I apologise. It was…presumptuous of me to assume you would be." She nodded.

"So, when do we leave?" she asked abruptly. He looked at his timepiece and smiled.

"We could leave now if you wish. The ball doesn't start for some time yet, but I like to be there beforehand to oversee the preparations. I can also brief you on the people you'll be meeting, and the plans for the evening."

_"You don't know half of the plans for this evening,"_ Beka thought to herself. She swallowed. Reviewing her plans quickly in her head, her chances for returning to the Andromeda seemed – in retrospect – extremely slim. It could be she'd have a better chance after marrying Tyr, when the guards would further trust her authority, but she could be certain that if she stayed another night, she wouldn't leave Tyr's palace unfertilised. The prospects of giving her friends not only the shock of being Nietzschean – but also married and pregnant – didn't seem attractive. Somehow, reality was strange enough as it was.

"Beka?" His voice sounded concerned, and she was pulled out of her thoughts.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry, I'm a bit nervous." He frowned.

"Nervous? I've never known you to get nervous."

"Well," she proceeded hesitantly, "this isn't exactly like…fighting magog, it's…new. You know?"

"I think so," he replied as he keyed in the code for the door and walked her into the corridor outside. "But there is no need to be nervous. This is a ritual performed for centuries, nothing could possibly go wrong."

"No, of course not," she replied quietly. "Nothing." 


	26. Flight to Freedom

  
Tyr hadn't left her side for the last half an hour, and Beka was starting to get nervous. There was a sizeable crowd in the room, and it would take her a while to be introduced to everyone, but the prospects of getting some time alone seemed to diminish constantly.

"Beka, this is Mansgris Trakmans, out of Vindruva by Skohorn. He was the former alpha of Rockshasha pride before joining us. I consider him a formidable advisor, and he has already eleven wives and twenty-eight children."

"Wow," Beka remarked as enthusiastically as she could muster, "sounds…great."

"There is no pleasure greater than watching your offspring thrive and grow," Mansgris replied with a slight bow. "You must be a very special woman. Tyr has had many offers since he became our leader, but he has declined them all, waiting for you."

"So I heard," she strained a smile. "I'm guessing your females will find themselves a bit luckier after tonight. Won't they, Tyr?" He seemed to sense her strain, and gave her a disapproving look.

"This is hardly the time to be speaking of that," he replied dismissively. "Mansgris has only mated with the finest Nietzschean women, perhaps you would like to speak with them. There is a lot you could learn." Beka nodded quickly.

"Yes, that sounds…interesting." To be honest, it almost did. Anything was at this point better than going around with Tyr, meeting one chauvinistic pig after another. Not to mention the opportunity of escape grew significantly if Tyr left her alone.

"They are over there," Mansgris pointed. "The ones with younger children may however need to leave early, so I suggest you hurry if you'd like to speak with all of them."

"Yes," Beka hurried to reply, "I'd like to very much." She smiled at Tyr. "I'll see you in a little while." He nodded, quickly moving back to his advisor, submerging in some form of discussion. "What a pig," Beka mumbled once she'd reached a far enough distance from the alpha. "Why can't _he_ leave early and take care of the brats?" Realising it could look suspicious if she left immediately; she walked up to the small collection of women sitting on a type of couch, a large corner unit fitting all eleven of them. They all looked up as Beka approached, not seeming to recognise her at first.

"Hi," she said tentatively. "Beka Valentine. I was told I could come over and…um, talk to you." Simultaneous realisation dawned on their faces, and they immediately moved over to make room for her. She sat down awkwardly and smiled at them.

"So you are the woman Lord Anasazi has been hiding," one of them said. Beka nodded.

"My sister offered for him two months ago," another woman informed her. "He declined her."

"Oh, I'm…sorry to hear that. Perhaps she could try again after I marry him? He'd be more receptive then, I'm sure." She was getting increasingly uncomfortable, and started trying to find a way out of there. "Do you know where the toilets are?"

"Over there," the first woman pointed, "just around the corner and past the first bar."

"Thanks," Beka nodded and started walking away. Hopefully Tyr trusted her enough now not to want to check on her every other minute. If he did, they would tell him where she'd gone, and he'd be looking for her.

She turned the corner, and looked around her. She hadn't been in this area of the room before, but there seemed to be an exit just by where the toilets were located. Luckily, no one seemed to know what she looked like yet, so she should be able to slip out unnoticed. Walking up and opening the door, she saw a corridor much like the one she'd entered in. Leaving shouldn't be too difficult, no one other than Tyr would stop her, but she'd have to get hold of a ship as well to get out of there. She'd stolen many ships in the past, and was usually pretty good at overriding command codes, but this was Tyr's empire, not some shady backwater planet.

"Beka!" She felt her heart miss a beat as she turned around to see Lana standing behind her with a desperate look on her face. "What are you doing?"

"Lana, please," she pleaded. "You have to understand that this is…I mean with so many people wanting to marry Tyr, I don't see why it has to be me, I'm the one who _doesn't_…"

"No," the young woman cried. "You can't go, Beka, you can't. You have no idea what impact your departure would have on…"

"Oh for crying out loud! Why is it so damn important that Tyr gets everything he wants? This is my _life_ you're talking about! So he doesn't get the woman he's pining for, well: tough! He's not the first man that happens to."

"You don't understand, Beka. It's not about him not getting what he wants, if you leave him he'll be seen as inferior, his leadership will be questioned."

"Oh, what do I care? The scum _abducted_ me, I _hope_ he loses his credibility! I hope…the only woman that'll marry him is some inferior old hag, and that he has lots of fat, sterile children! Don't try to plead to my conscience Lana, when it comes to Tyr, I haven't got one." Lana took a deep breath and swallowed.

"It's not about Tyr either, Beka. This action you're about to take could have dire consequences that goes further than you and me, further than Tyr or even the Nietzschean empire. It is crucial that you stay, even though you might not understand it now."

"Nietzschean superiority complex," Beka snorted, "thinking everything revolves around them. Look, Lana, alert your little guards if that's what you think is right. I'd rather die trying to get away than stay here and play Tyr's good little wife." She turned her back and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Lana called. She seemed to have almost shrunk, Beka noted as she turned around again. "There is a small shuttle in the engine bay, around the corner, the fourth door to the left. It's been through repairs but hasn't been taken back to the shipyard yet, so it won't be guarded. It's only large enough for one person, but it has slipstream capabilities and long-range scanners. You should be able to reach your ship with it. I'll open the emergency doors once you're there." Beka nodded, speechless, and quickly took off around the corner. Lana turned and closed her eyes.

_"She's returning,"_ she called out inside her head. _"You must explain to her once she's there. She's leaving now."_


	27. Beka Returns

"Captain, you asked to see me?" The tired-looking human glanced up at him and nodded.

"Yes, I did. Admiral…lieutenant…I'm sorry, it's difficult to…"

"Not at all," he replied brusquely. "Captain Hunt, I have sworn you my loyalty."

"Yes, I am aware of that, but I want to make perfectly clear some of the _circumstances_ these choices could produce. We want to get Beka back at any risk, now, the officials on Terazed aren't very happy with that…"

"I am quite aware of what has been going on, Captain, in case you didn't notice, I attended several meetings regarding this issue. What is your point?" A smile flickered across the captain's face before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'm not sure what they will consider us if we take the route to retrieve her alone, but there is little doubt you will be stripped of your rank if you join me now. I want you to think carefully about this, lieutenant."

"It's curious." He gave the other man a few moments to question, before continuing; "Tyr Anasazi is building up a joint Nietzschean empire, much stronger than any commonwealth you could conjure as quickly, and you are more concerned with the retrieval of your – potentially dead – crewmate, not to mention my rank, than the irreparable damage that could cause." Dylan smiled.

"Let's just say I'm considering all variables. After all; how much is there I could do now? Terazed are still more interested in hiding themselves than recreating the commonwealth, and the only person I've found who still resembles a high guard soldier appears to be you, Telemachus."

"That surprises you," Rhade replied flatly. The captain opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, a breathless Trance rushed into the room, holding the wall to steady herself.

"She…she's back." Both the men gave her confused looks.

"Trance, what are you talking about?" Dylan inquired. Trance panted for breath, but Andromeda popped up and answered the question for her.

"We have an incoming hail from a small Nietzschean ship sitting outside the hangar bay. I can read others in immediate pursuit." Dylan nodded.

"Re-route it here." He turned on his console, and had to grab onto the table to keep his knees from buckling with shock when he saw who was on the screen. He vaguely registered the way she looked prepared for a wedding rather than a piloting trip, but didn't give it much thought. "Beka?" Her name came out more like a whisper or a squeak.

"Dylan, I don't have time to explain, just let me in."

"Of course! Andromeda…"

"Already done. She's entering the cargo bay." Her holographic face frowned. "Hang on. One of the pursuing ships has also entered."

"Get Rommie to meet me there." He grabbed a force lance. "Rhade, we'll take different routes, come on." Both men ran out of the room, leaving Trance staring wide-eyed after them.

"Oh Beka," she whispered. "Why did you have to come back?"

Beka managed to leave her ship before the pursuing Nietzscheans, and, having long since kicked off the torture contraptions known as 'shoes', she made a mad dash for the door. Her heart was beating rapidly as she prayed to meet someone, anyone, preferably someone strong with a big weapon, sometime soon. Maybe Rommie. She turned corners as often as she could, trying to lose the Nietzscheans undoubtedly in pursuit. The dress swung across her legs and she could feel hairpins coming undone as she ran.

Her heart skipped a beat as she turned a corner, bumping into someone. She fell backwards, and when looking up at the man she realised it was no one she recognised, but rather a tall, dark-haired Nietzschean. Desperate, she held up her boneblades in a fighting stance, only for him to return her gesture by holding up his hands, showing her his lack of weapons – well, unless boneblades counted.

"We don't want a fight," he explained calmly. "Just come with me, and we can sort this out peacefully…"

"No!" she cried, "I'm not letting you do this, I'll die first!" She took a first stab and he gracefully avoided her, holding up his own boneblades threateningly.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt…"

"So leave me alone, and let me do what I need to do," she replied, blowing stray hairs out of her face.

"I can't let you do that," he told her calmly. "Now, stand down, or I'll have to restrain you." She took a few steps back, then quickly tried to attack him again. This time, she nearly got a hit in, but in the last second he spun around and pinned her arms behind her back, rendering her defenceless. She cried out, but a moment later she saw Dylan and Rommie appear around the corner ahead of her, stopping dead as they saw her restrained by the Nietzschean. Rather than the fight she had expected, they both had a confused look on their faces.

"Rhade, let her go," Dylan said as he walked up to them, "Beka, you have no idea…"

"This is your…" the Nietzschean let her go suddenly, and looked up at Dylan. "You never told me your first officer was a Nietzschean."

An eerie silence fell over the corridor. 


	28. Explanation Time

Ever since the plans to go back had first entered her mind Beka had known this moment would come, and yet now that it was there, she couldn't seem to get an intelligent word out. Her arms were still firmly planted behind her back, so Dylan and Rommie had no proof that this Nietzschean's claim was true, but it wouldn't be long until they did, and she needed an explanation.

_"Screw that,"_ she thought angrily to herself. This wasn't her fault. If anyone at all had anything to explain, it was Tyr. Although of course, Tyr wasn't there, so she had to do the explaining for him. Typical.

"Beka, what…" Dylan took a few steps towards her, but she was saved by two pursuing guards finally crossing around the corner. The apparently friendly Nietzschean put his arm in front of her for protection, and although she wanted nothing more than to see her pursuers dead by her hand, she did accept the support. Dylan and Rommie quickly lined up, and shot the two Nietzscheans down.

"Andromeda," Beka called out desperately, "are there any more of them left on the ship?" The hologram appeared before her, amusingly untouched in contrast to the rest of them.

"None," she confirmed. "The other pursuing Nietzschean ships seem to have gone back where they came from."

"That means it won't be long until he knows where I am," Beka whispered. Before she could react, she felt Dylan's arms envelop her with a sigh of relief.

"You have no idea how much we've worried," he murmured in her ear. "Trance said…we thought you were dead." She carefully put her arms around him, but winced as she realised her boneblades were now skimming his back. A gasp from Rommie made him pull apart from her, grabbing hold of her wrist and staring, speechless, at her arm. "What has he done to you?" Dylan growled. "What are these…prosthetics?"

"No, Dylan, they're…"

"Never mind, Beka, it doesn't matter, we'll remove them. I need to let…let Harper know you're back, he'll be…I'll tell you what, we'll throw a party! Or maybe you'd rather do that tomorrow? Maybe just something quiet…"

"Dylan!" Beka exclaimed, tears starting to brim her eyes, whether from happiness, melancholy or frustration she wasn't sure. "I need to speak to you. In private." Dumbfounded, he nodded.

"Yes, of course," he mumbled, "of course." He led her into the nearest room, which happened to be unused crew quarters. She sat down on the stripped bed and started pulling pins out of her hair in frustration.

"Dylan, it's not as simple as you think," she replied. "He's done a lot more to me than just added some prosthetics."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tyr," she cried. "Egotistical, self-appointed master of the universe Anasazi! He decides he wants something, and he's having it. At any cost. No matter who gets hurt in the process." Dylan sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a concerned look.

"What did he do to you, Beka?" She took a deep breath, but yet her voice didn't seem to want to work properly.

"He re-sequenced my DNA," she whispered eventually. Either Dylan hadn't heard her, or he was too shocked to react. She was willing to bet on the latter. "He wanted it all, Dylan. He…he's always wanted me, I guess. Only, as long as I was human he couldn't have me. Racist, chauvinist pig…only he still had to have everything he wanted, didn't he? So…he had to change me. I have no idea how long I was unconscious, but I think…I think it was a long time." Dylan appeared to have finally caught his breath back.

"You mean he actually…_made_ you Nietzschean?" She nodded. "I can't believe that's possible."

"It is," Beka confirmed. "The way he explained it was; Nietzscheans are only genetically enhanced humans, so with enough genetic engineering any human could turn Nietzschean. I think he had a perseid do it." She swallowed. "I could never forgive him for what he's done to me…and yet he expected me…he expected me to fall in love with him. He was even willing to keep me locked up until I did. Sure, I had five-star accommodation, even servants, but…I was a prisoner. Until I agreed to marry him."

"You've…" Dylan took a deep breath and swallowed. "You've actually married him?" He looked at her arm for a double helix, and she shook her head quickly.

"No," she said, "I only agreed to do it. I said…I'd announce it at his ball. It was the first time I was let out in public…"

"That explains the clothes."

"I escaped during that ball. I had some unexpected help…from one of the women assigned as my servant. She was telling me…how I shouldn't leave; at first I thought she was protecting Tyr…but then…" Beka frowned. "She started sounding like Trance. She said…about the universe, having consequences beyond…never mind. It's just the Nietzschean superiority complex. Anyway, when I resisted, she helped me escape." They were both silent for a few moments, before Dylan stood up.

"We have to go back." Her eyes widened.

"What?"

"Beka, after what he did to you…we can't let him get _away_ with it!" She shook her head quickly.

"No, Dylan, please…leave it. I can't risk him taking me back, I can't." It seemed almost as if he hadn't heard her, his fists clenching and his brow furrowing.

"I'll kill the bastard, I'll…"

"Dylan…"

"Blow his self-righteous Nietzschean head…"

"Dylan, please!" she cried out, tears running down her cheeks. He looked at her, looking just aroused from a dream, or as if he'd only now realised she was there. She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Please. I'm so scared." Swiftly, he pulled her up and held her in his arms, so tight as if he believed she'd disappear otherwise.

"Me too," he whispered in her ear. "Me too." 


	29. HarperRepeat

She sighed as the water cascaded over her neck and back, cleaning the sweat she'd attained in her escape off her. It felt…she couldn't even find the words to describe how it felt to be back on the Maru. The situation could only be made better if she had her friends around, but just telling the story once had been hard enough…she wasn't sure whether she could face Harper without him being pre-warned. Luckily, Dylan had offered to let the rest of the crew in on the story, leaving her to clean herself up and change. She knew this wouldn't mean there'd be no more questions, but at least it was a start.

She wrapped a towel around herself and attached her armbands before leaving the bathroom, walking towards the crew quarters. She jumped as an unexpected Nietzschean was standing in the doorway, looking bemused at her startled expression. Suddenly very irritated, Beka pushed past him and turned around, giving him her best glare.

"What do you want?"

"To…apologise," he said, much to her surprise. "I took you by surprise earlier, I startled you."

"So," she began, "you thought you'd apologise for startling me by sneaking onto my ship and luring outside my shower? Great plan. Nietzschean superiority at work."

"You weren't exactly completely faultless when it comes to what happened earlier," he reminded her, politely turning around to allow her to get dressed.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked, changing the subject. "I thought Dylan had you all collected to explain what happened."

"He did," Rhade informed her. "Very…intriguing indeed. I've never heard of such a procedure being performed before."

"Would you like me to sign an autograph?" Beka muttered.

"Curious," Rhade smiled. She waited a few moments, not wanting to give him the idea she was actually interested in what he had to say, then finally caved.

"What?"  
"I'd have thought you'd be pleased to be back, but so far…you seem pretty uninterested."

"All right, I don't know why I'm telling you this, but…I guess I feel a bit weird. I've been experimented on, imprisoned, and when I come back here, everything's just gone on as normal. It's as if I was just assumed to be dead, and no one even made the effort to find out more. I mean, look at _you_! I've even been replaced…"

"The only reason I'm here," Rhade replied dryly, "is because I was the only official on Terazed who listened to Captain Hunt's pleas for help after the Andromeda returned from Anasazi's space barely functioning. He's been trying to launch a rescue attempt, even though everyone was sure you were dead."

"Oh." There was an awkward silence as Beka finished getting dressed. Finally, Rhade looked over at her. "Harper did want to come and see you, but Dylan told him to wait while you finish in here. I should probably leave."

"Good idea." Rhade made a slight bow before leaving, which caused Beka to wrinkle her nose in discontent. She walked over to the mirror and nervously picked at her hair, trying to put it back in order without really caring. She looked down at what she was wearing. The dress had been exchanged for her soft brown trousers and a high-necked black tank-top. She'd picked up her favourite old leather jacket, but had realised there was no way she could wear it without making some adjustments.

The sparkling adorned bracelets looked out of place now that she was wearing plainer clothes, and she made a mental reminder to find some simple ones to match. She'd always wondered why Nietzscheans always wore the bracelets, now she'd found out the skin around them was too sensitive not to be protected.

"Harper…" she whispered. How had he taken it? He hated Nietzscheans with a passion…yet, would he really see her as truly Nietzschean? She didn't. She wasn't. He'd understand…he'd thought she was dead, this couldn't possibly be worse. She swallowed. Could it?

Her time to think turned out to be up as she heard the door opening and the unmistakable sound of Harper's boots running towards her. He stopped in the doorway, panting heavily.

"Beka! I can't believe…Trance said…I'm so…" He didn't manage to finish either sentence he started, and – far from oblivious to his transfixed stares at her boneblades – she hid her arms behind her back.

"I'm fine," she reassured him. She took a few tentative steps forward and wrapped her arms around him. To her great relief he hugged her back as tightly as he could. After letting go she could see he had tears in his eyes.

"I thought you were dead," he said simply. "I didn't exactly expect you to come back like this, but…" He paused. "Dylan told me it's not just boneblades." She shook her head.

"It's not," she replied simply, not wanting to discuss the matter once more. His face lit up.

"But, you know, it'll be all right, Beka! Cause, I had to wait a while to come see you, and I've been thinking…" He led her over to sit on her bunk. "There must be a way to reverse it, and I'm your man to do it! I've asked Trance and Rommie to help us, and of course I'll lead the operation myself! Don't worry boss, you'll be in the best hands…"

"Harper," she cut him off, "did you think of _asking_ me before you started planning this whole thing?" She tried to keep the anger from surfacing in her voice, but regretted this when he seemed untouched by her question.

"I thought it'd be better if I planned ahead, you know, so it could be like a surprise. Obviously I wanted to tell you as soon as possible, so I haven't actually got a _plan_ yet, but it'll come, boss, don't worry! We'll get you rid of this stuff." He smiled, and while part of her was touched by his concern, a much more dominant part was getting increasingly agitated.

"And what if I don't want to?" His eyes widened.

"What…what do you mean? Come on Beka, you can't tell me you _want_ to be…to be…"

"Nietzschean? No, Harper, I don't. It was forced on me, I wasn't asked, I was experimented on against my will, and molecularly _raped_. Has it occurred to you that _maybe_, just _maybe_, I don't want to go through that again?" He stared at her for a few moments before composing himself enough to answer.

"No, but…it's not the same, is it?" He sounded a lot less sure of himself, and had she not been so angry, she'd probably feel bad. "I mean, it wouldn't be _forced_ on you?"

"Oh really?" Beka continued to push it. "Cause it sounded to me like you'd already made up your mind. You didn't even consider…" She took a deep breath. "Look," she said, in a calmer voice, "it hurts when someone…can't accept you the way you are, and has to change you. Tyr couldn't accept me, and now…I'm so scared of not being accepted here either." He stayed quiet for what appeared to deem an appropriate amount of time before speaking up again.

"But Beka, for your own sake, maybe…"

"You're acting just like him." She stood up and left the Maru as quickly as she could. 


	30. Trance

TriGemini: Thanks, and no; I don't think Tyr will be coming after her just yet.

Firewolfe: The boneblades aren't really that important on their own, but they are the visual proof of Beka's change and therefore a big hang-up.

sherril: You'll have to wait and see what happens with Dylan...

It was difficult to be back somehow. The moment she had woken up that morning, she had wondered what exactly she was to do. Dylan hadn't mentioned anything about returning to duty, and she didn't want to barge onto command, in case…she wasn't sure why. Maybe she was still scared they didn't trust her anymore. Still, that was a silly notion. She hadn't changed that much. They'd want her back on duty.

She still wanted to ask before though. Unsure how to proceed, she had spent most of the morning trying to work it out, wondering whether Dylan would want her to straight away or not. Perhaps he'd come up with one of these stupid _"Take a few days off to relax"_ ideas. It wasn't the boredom that bothered her so much; she was quite used to that by now. It was the feeling of being outside the normal order that got to her. She just wanted to feel like everything had gone back to normal.

"And to do that I need to speak with Dylan," she suddenly said out loud. Finally determined, she left the Maru. After leaving the hangar bay, she stopped. "Andromeda, where is Dylan?" she asked. The AI appeared in front of her, seeming to study her boneblades carefully. Beka immediately hid them behind her back.

"As far as I'm concerned, you are still the same person," the AI reassured her. "I'm merely…curious." She seemed to regain her bearings. "Dylan is on command." Beka nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "On both accounts."

She entered command a few minutes later, relieved to see it hadn't changed much. Her eyes immediately darted towards the slipstream station, eager to see who had taken over after her. A sudden pang of inexplicable rage came over her when she saw the Nietzschean admiral at her usual post. Or was he a lieutenant now? She'd never liked him, not since the first time she saw him on Terazed, and certainly not now. Who did he think he was, standing there like some…his positioning was all wrong too, Beka noted, ignoring the fact they weren't actually in slipstream at the moment, and Rhade's positioning was quite irrelevant.

"Beka!" Dylan exclaimed, "it's…lovely to see you here." She quickly snapped out of her thoughts and turned her face to him, feeling a little better as she saw his earnestly happy expression. "I wasn't sure whether you'd want some rest…after all; it's been an eventful time for you." She felt insecure for a moment. Was this the truth, or was he _hoping_ she wouldn't turn up? Trying to push the doubts to the back of her mind , she shook her head quickly.

"Not at all," she assured him. "I've had plenty of rest, believe me." She attempted a smile as she walked towards him, and found to her surprise it wasn't difficult at all. "I was hoping we could…talk." He nodded.

"Of course. Walk with me?" She couldn't help but smile. The amount of times he'd said that…usually when she'd done something wrong, unfortunately. She nodded and he motioned towards the door. They walked in silence for a minute before she finally spoke up.

"I'd like to come back on duty, Dylan. I've been stationary for so long, I need to get moving, get my life back." He nodded.

"Of course. I was planning to ask you in a few days, but if you think you're ready now…" She grinned.

"Are you kidding? I can't wait to finally fly again!" He grinned back at her, but then his face grew more serious, and he seemed to be struggling with his words.

"I heard…I mean, Harper said…" The grin faded from her face, and she immediately looked away.

"Yes, I know about Harper's little idea."

"I can hear you don't approve."

"Well, I don't think he can do it, and apart from that…"

"I think I know what you're going to say, Beka, but tell me anyway."

"Tyr told me in every possible way how I wasn't good enough for him, that he had to change my genetic code in order for him to accept me. I…guess that hurt, and I don't want to hear the same thing when I get back here."

"I'm sure that's not how Harper meant it…"

"Dylan, I think he did. To an extent at least. I don't think he _realises_ it, but…"

"It's all right, Beka," Dylan cut her off. "To be honest, I wasn't too excited about the idea myself." Her head snapped up in surprise.

"You weren't?" He shook his head.

"No. We aren't like Tyr, Beka. We don't care what you look like, if you've changed, we love you anyway." She felt as if a warm hand gripped her heart. This was what she had been waiting to hear all along, she just hadn't quite realised it. "I know what I want; I just want you here, and I don't want to put you through any dangerous medical procedures unless it is what you absolutely want, and even then reluctantly. Harper will realise this too, he just needs to come to terms with it." She smiled at him, too relieved to find words. She wasn't sure they were even needed. "So," he said, steering the conversation to a more casual note, just a little too soon for Beka's taste. She'd have liked to stay on the light and fluffy side for just a little bit longer, but what he said next made her forget all that. "Ready to get reacquainted with the slipstream?"

She was standing in the bathroom brushing her hair while smiling at herself in the mirror. The day had gone better than she'd expected. She'd quickly reasserted herself as first officer and pilot, pushing that obnoxious Nietzschean out of the way without as much as a fight. He'd been reassigned to weapons, something that didn't bother Beka in the least. Well, he could have been scrubbing decks…she grinned at the thought. The only thing still worrying her was that Tyr might come after her. Dylan had reassured her that they'd do anything to protect her, but…what could one ship do against the whole Nietzschean empire? Rhade had said something about Terazed, but she hadn't paid too much attention to him. Wrapping a bathrobe around her she left the room, and gasped with shock as Trance was standing waiting for her right outside the door. Laughing, she moved out of the way, walking back to her bedroom. Trance followed.

"You could have told me you were there," she jokingly reprimanded her. She then turned around, noticing the serious expression on Trance's face. "This isn't about Harper's experiment, is it? Because I've already decided, it's…"

"This has nothing to do with that," Trance cut her off. "Beka, I know this isn't what you want to hear, but…there was a good reason Lana told you to stay with Tyr." Beka's eyes widened.

"How do _you_ know Lana, or what she said?" she spluttered. Trance stayed calm.

"There are certain things you don't understand," she replied calmly, "or Tyr for that matter. But as much as I want you to stay here, the possibilities if you do…almost all of them end in disaster."

"No," Beka shook her head. "I won't believe that. I refuse to. It's…ridiculous. Me going back to Tyr is not going to help anyone but Tyr. Besides, he's likely to come after me anyway," she decided to spitefully voice her own concerns. "You'd be happy then, wouldn't you?"

"You know as well as I do that he won't. He's already given his people some excuse as to why you are gone. He'd never let on you'd left without his consent." A flood of relief washed over Beka.

"Good," she replied snappily. "Suits me just fine."

"Beka, you have to believe me," she pleaded. "Going back to Tyr, it won't make you happier, but you have the chance to save the universe from destruction."

"No," Beka snapped. "You're lying." She pushed past Trance and ran out of the Maru, needing to get as far away as she could. She stopped outside the hangar bay, breathing heavily and feeling tears welling up in her throat. Where would she go?

_"We don't care what you look like, if you've changed, we love you anyway"_

She started running.

Coming out of the shower, he sighed happily. Everything seemed to be back to the way it was supposed to be. He had been worried when Beka had returned as a Nietzschean, but today when he'd interacted with her on a more normal level, he'd seen how little she'd actually changed beyond the physical, and he could now relax and concentrate on being happy that she was back. After all, it didn't really matter what she was, right? As long as she was there.

The door chiming interrupted his thoughts, and he sighed in frustration. It was most likely Rhade wanting to complain about losing his post at the slipstream station. Surely he'd realise this had been Beka's job all along? He pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms before opening the door, getting ready for an argument. He was stunned when it wasn't Rhade outside the door, but Beka. She looked up at him, and he was sure he could see faint tear tracks on her cheeks. She was in a thin bathrobe, tightly tied around her, and her feet were bare. Her arms were wrapped around her front, as if she was trying to protect herself.

"Can I come in?" Her voice was shivering, and he nodded quickly, stepping aside.


	31. Feelings Realised

Trigemini: I agree, she shouldn't have to. :-)

PixiKitty: Thank you! I'm not terribly fond of Trance either, to be honest.

sherril: You may like it even less soon...lol

_"Deep breaths!"_ he thought, trying to calm his heart from beating so fast, and his mind from racing all over the place. A naked leg stretched out and gently settled over his, sending shivers up and down his spine as he stroked her head, still immobile, asleep. _"Come on, in…and out,"_ he commanded himself. The shock of waking up with her in his arms…being like this, it was almost as strong as when she had first returned to them. How had this happened? He tried to think back.

_"Can I come in?" Her voice was shivering, and he nodded quickly, stepping aside. She entered the room, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself, the long, wide sleeves of her bathrobe covering the boneblades, a fashion in which he had never seen a Nietzschean dress before. Then again, he'd never seen a Nietzschean in a robe before._

"Sit down," he said, realising he'd been staring at her, and tried not to look embarrassed. She seemed unfazed, and sat down on the edge of his bed, her head bent down, staring down into her lap. He sat down next to her, keeping what seemed to him a safe distance, wishing he had put a T-shirt on before opening the door, but realising it was a bad idea to go put one on now. "What's wrong, Beka? You seemed fine earlier. Is it Harper? Cause you know he just…"

"It's not Harper," she cut him off, her voice small and frightened. "I haven't even seen Harper today."

"Well, who then?" Dylan inquired. "Rhade?" He knew she didn't like the Nietzschean, but surely whatever he could have done wouldn't upset her like this? Confirming his thoughts, she shook her head again.

"Actually, it was Trance," she whispered, hugging herself even tighter. He frowned, taken aback.

"Trance_?" he exclaimed. "What…what could she possibly have…" his voice died out, waiting for an answer. He didn't immediately get one. She started to breathe more rapidly, shifting where she sat. Pulling up her legs, which caused the already sufficiently alluring robe to pool down and settle around her thighs, inches away from becoming indecent, she placed her arms around her knees, seeking more protection from the outside world. He considered for a moment placing an arm around her, but decided against it as she finally spoke again._

"She told me I have to go back." A few moments had passed before the words had finally sunk through to him. What did Trance think she was doing_? Beka had spent months imprisoned by Tyr, violated both physically and mentally, and now that she was finally free and back with them, Trance wanted her to go _back_?_

"There…there must have been a mistake," he tried, hoping, though not believing, that this was true. "A misunderstanding. I mean, why…why would she want you to?" If he hadn't been staring so intently, he wouldn't have noticed the tiny shivers going through Beka's body. She looked up at him, traces of tears in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Her usual reasons of course," she mumbled, more than obvious hints of resentment in her voice. "The universe being saved from destruction. The good of the many. Of course she can't give me details either. I'm just supposed to work as her sock puppet, doing her bidding without question." Dylan shook his head.

"No," he determined firmly. "I don't care what Trance says." Realising this went against most – if not all – of his principles, he continued; "Trance has been wrong before, and I'm sure as hell not letting you throw your life away because of one of her whims. She'll have to find some other way of saving the universe." Beka stared up in his eyes, tears now silently running down her cheeks, the salty water shimmering in the faint light Dylan had already dimmed for sleep. Softly, and most likely not altogether realising what she was doing, she rested her head against his shoulder, her entire body giving out a sigh, and relaxing. He lifted his hand and stroked her hair out of her face, fighting the small ounce of doubt that made him want to go to talk to Trance…whether to get clarification or simply to strangle her he wasn't sure. Either way, this wasn't the time.

"Thank you," she whispered finally, raising herself up again. He smiled faintly, his gaze flickering between her eyes, down her face, and to the fragile, yet exquisite lines of her body he could distinguish beyond the robe she was wearing. Her curled up pose and tear-stained face reminded him of a child, and he felt a sudden need to protect her. Letting go for a moment, he stood up and walked over to his small kitchen area. Returning a minute later, he stretched out a cup of steaming hot liquid to her. She took it tentatively, and sniffed it with a suspicious look on her face.

"It's an old Vedran herbal tea," he explained. "It'll help you sleep. It's late, and…I thought you might have troubles." She didn't reply, but sipped the tea nevertheless. Unsure of whether his late-night duty was over or not, denying himself the admittance of not quite wanting it to be, he moved to prepare something, although he wasn't quite sure what to prepare, and was left standing motionless in the middle of the room. Beka peered up at him over the rim of the cup, and he tried a smile at her. "How are you feeling now?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied thoughtfully, her legs curling up further against her. "Dylan, I…" she trailed off, her voice losing its bearing, and her eyes left his, dropping towards the floor. He quickly sat back down again, searching her face for the answer.

"What, Beka?" She raised her eyes to his again.

"I really don't want to be alone tonight." The impact of her words hit him, but…how did she mean it? It felt hard to believe she'd have chosen him to…

"I don't mean…like…" her eyes turned from his again. "I just don't want to be alone," she clarified. He smiled, whether with disappointment or relief, he wasn't sure.

Her face looked so peaceful as she slept. He could so easily get lost watching every pore, recording it in his mind for future reference.

_"I was only trying to be her friend,"_ he tried to remind himself, but holding her as close as she was, feeling her body heat through the thin robe, he wasn't sure who he was trying to fool.


	32. The Morning After

TriGemini: Yes, Dylan does appear a little like a "care" figure...

sherril: Thank you very much! Don't worry, English isn't my first language either. As to the time frame: Well, I think Beka spent a couple of months with Tyr, but since that includes the time she was being experimented on, the time frames get a little skewed.

At first when she woke up, she wasn't sure where she was. She certainly knew she wasn't on the Maru, the bed was far too big and soft for that. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to get her bearings. Her quarters aboard the Andromeda? No…there wasn't…another body in her bed. Not normally. She opened her eyes and smiled as she saw Dylan there, still sleeping, the blanket covering most, but not all, of his naked chest.

She cuddled up a little closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers absent-mindedly playing with the hairs on his chest. She relaxed and closed her eyes again, trying to settle down and, possibly, go back to sleep.

It was strange. She felt a lot more at peace now, not only compared to last night, but more so than she had for a long time. The heat from his body warmed her, and his arm, slightly curled around her, made her feel safe and comfortable. She shifted carefully, unwilling to wake him up and ruin what seemed to her a perfect moment.

Once she had almost drifted back to sleep, he suddenly moved. She stiffened and her eyes flew open, but relaxed again once she'd realised he hadn't woken up. His body shifted to the side, the arm that was not already around her now firmly in place, and their lower bodies now as well as their upper were firmly pressed together. Beka felt a surge of desire shoot through her and, as if led by instinct, pressed herself closer to him, her face nuzzling his neck. He was still asleep when she stopped, stiffening.

_"What if this isn't really what I want?"_ she thought anxiously. _"What if it's my Nietzschean mating instinct? What if it's tricking me to feel things I wouldn't normally feel?"_ She pulled back from him slightly and stared at his sleeping face, which almost looked sweet in the dim lights from the window. She couldn't bring herself to act on her feelings, but something compelled her to keep going. Shifting onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, trying to collect her emotions.

She hadn't been born Nietzschean and hadn't had their values drummed into her from birth, but she did have the genetics. A Nietzschean was taught to be very selective about the genetic value and ability of protection from a future mate, but she'd never learnt all that. What if it was those Nietzschean urges mixing with her human values that made her feel…whatever she was feeling for Dylan right now? It was quite possible it wasn't genuine at all.

Her breathing quickened as she turned away from him, shuffling as far to the end of the bed as she could.

Why had she even wanted to stay with him in the first place? Had she _really_ needed a friend, or was it just her hormones playing tricks on her, trying to induce her to find a mate? That couldn't be…she couldn't accept it. Yet it didn't seem so impossible. She turned around and looked at Dylan, her brow furrowing painfully.

She couldn't do this to him. Whether her feelings – whatever they were – were genuine, or whether it was her Nietzschean physiology playing tricks on her, it wasn't fair on him. He was trying to be her friend, he'd accepted her back despite her changes, stood by her side when Trance said she had to go back, even let her stay in his bed when she was frightened of being alone…and even past all that, she knew what the truth was.

He hated Nietzscheans.

They had always betrayed him in one way or another, he could never quite trust them, and despite this, he had let her in – back on the ship had been expected, but also to his friendship, into intimacy. It had to be difficult to see past the changes she had gone through, to see her as the person she had been, and not a new Nietzschean he had to deal with. How could she put this on him now? It was simple – she couldn't.

Pulling herself carefully out of bed as to not wake him, she threw a longing glance back before tip-toeing out of the room. She had to keep away from him, it was the only way. The feelings she had…they were unacceptable. She couldn't do it to him.

Hoping no one would see her as she walked the corridors in her robe, she slipped out of the door undetected.

* * *

He stretched pleasurably as he woke up. Remembering both falling asleep with her the night before, and waking up with her in his arms that same morning, he was certainly in a good mood. Sure, he didn't think she meant anything else than what she had said, and he wasn't sure what his intentions were either, but he did know it had been a very lovely experience. He rolled on his side and stretched out an arm to encircle her, but his eyes flickered open abruptly when it landed onto the mattress. He sat up straight, blinking as he stared at the empty space where she had been. The sheets were crumpled and the blankets pulled aside, as if she had left in a hurry. In a bit of a daze, he stood up and pulled his hand through his hair. She wasn't due on command any sooner than he was.

"Andromeda," he asked, his voice thick with sleep, "what's the time?"

"Oh-six fifteen," the disembodied voice responded. Plenty of time before her duty shift started. Perhaps she had just gone to the bathroom. He sat down and waited for a minute, his fingers drumming gently against his knees.

"Andromeda, where's Beka?" he asked finally.

"Beka's on the Maru," she replied.

Dylan sat there for some time, staring into the wall, wondering whatever it was he'd done wrong.


	33. Admissions

He wasn't even sure what he was planning to do once he got to her. He hadn't spent the night with her in any other fashion than to keep her company, so other than being a little rude, she hadn't done anything _wrong_ by leaving. What exactly would he do, lecture her on manners? He'd acted as a friend to her, and simply because the closeness had led his own mind astray did not change the manner in which they'd spent the night together.

"_Ok,_" he tried to gather his thoughts. "_What exactly will I say to her? That I'm…angry because she left? Disappointed? I have no right to be."_ With a deep breath, he entered the Maru. He found Beka in the galley, mixing up a cup of coffee. She was dressed now, in tight leather trousers and a brief tank top that let the skin of her waist show through as she moved. The jewel-adorned bracelets had been replaced with plain leather ones similar to those Tyr used to wear before he lost his boneblades. He'd tried to enter quietly, but she still heard him, quickly turning around as he came in. "_Damn Nietzschean senses,_" he thought, somewhat amused.

"Dylan!" She sounded surprised; although he wasn't sure it was genuine.

"I…just wanted to check you're all right. You left pretty abruptly."

"I'm fine, thank you," she replied briefly, leaning up to take the water out of the microwave. "Coffee?"

"Please." She poured them both cups, and with a distant but complimentary smile, handed him one. He stood still, looking at her for a few moments.

"Was there…anything else you wanted?"

"Well, I wanted to see how you feel I suppose," he shrugged. "If things are better." She nodded quickly.

"I'm fine," she repeated. "I'm sorry for disturbing you last night, it was…immature of me. It won't happen again, I promise." His brow furrowed as he stepped closer to her.

"There's no need to apologise," he assured her. "I…I didn't mind at all. I'm glad you came to me, Beka. I like to know what's going on, and to be able to help if you need it." She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"I don't," she said, her voice sounding falsely cheerful. "I was just being hormonal last night I guess. I'm fine now; I should have thought it through myself instead of bothering you." She smiled nervously. "Can't come running to you every time someone says something I don't like, can I?" He shrugged.

"I'd say you can," he replied calmly. "Besides, what Trance said last night, it was hardly…" Realisation suddenly dawned on him, and he sighed. "Beka…this isn't about the way I supposedly see you now, is it?" She didn't answer. "I've told you, as far as I'm concerned, you're still the same person. Hell, I've trusted you with my life for the last three years; a few boneblades aren't going to change that." He touched her shoulder, and let his hand run down her arm, stopping just where her armband started. She looked at him uncomfortably.

"I can't do this," she said quickly, stepping away from him. He frowned.

"What exactly is it that you can't do?"

"This," she motioned towards him, then towards herself. "I can't…take advantage of you like this. The fact that you never leave anyone behind, that you'd do anything for a member of your crew, I…it's not right."

"Beka, if you think this has to do with some sense of _morals_, then…"

"Well, then what? Why did you let me back Dylan? And more importantly, why did you do what you did last night, let me stay around with you, comfort me about my stupid…"

"Because I _care_ about you, Beka! Is that so difficult to believe?" She sank down on one of the chairs at the bar, her face turned from him.

"No," she whispered. "And yes." He sat down next to her, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What do you mean?"

"You hate Nietzscheans, Dylan. Maybe you care about me _now_, but every time I do something wrong, upset you, contradict you, you won't be able to stop yourself wondering whether it's because of my genetics, making themselves known, whether I'm destined to betray you." She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. "You'll hate me Dylan, maybe not now, maybe not soon, but eventually, you'll start thinking of me as just another Nietzschean." He shook his head furiously.

"Beka, you're being ridiculous! Don't you think I know you enough to separate you from just another _token_ Nietzschean? You're my _friend_, nothing's going to change that." A single tear ran down her cheek as she held up her forearms silently before his face.

"These will," she added, her voice barely audible. "I don't think we can avoid it." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I've been giving it a lot of thought Dylan, and what I did last night, it was wrong. Perhaps even coming back here was wrong."

"Beka, you're being ridiculous," he warned her.

"Am I? Dylan, I was thinking…perhaps I should do what Trance said. I couldn't stand the thought of you hating me, I…"

"Beka, this is stupid," he stood up. "You're acting like an idiot, and you're doing it because of Trance planting ideas in your head." He started to move towards the exit, and Beka scrambled out of her chair, following him.

"Where are you going?"

"To speak to Trance." She bit her lip and ran after him.

"Dylan, wait!"


	34. I can't come up with a title

"Dylan, stop!" Ignoring her calls, he continued walking in long, secure strides down the corridor, leaving her having to run to keep up. "Dylan, don't do this," she pleaded. "Please. I don't want to have to think about what Trance said." He suddenly stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her a little closer to him.

"But maybe we _need_ to think about it, " he said sternly, through clenched teeth. "You obviously can't _stop_ thinking about it. Damn it Beka, I'm going to do whatever it'll take for you to stop second-guessing everything I do." Letting go of her, he turned his back, and stalked off down the corridor. Beka stared for a moment before following him again.

She didn't catch up until he'd reached hydroponics, where he had apparently found Trance. She was tending some flowers with Harper, chatting to him as if nothing had happened. Beka swallowed. It was too late to do anything now.

"Trance," Dylan said loudly, his anger not well kempt. She turned around and smiled aloofly.

"Dylan. Can I help you with anything?" He stared at her.

"You could explain to me what the _hell_ you think you're doing?" Beka took a few steps back, unwilling of being seen.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Harper was stepping in now, looking almost protective of Trance.

"Hey," he said, sounding a little agitated, "let's just take it easy. No need for anyone to get upset, all right?" Dylan threw him an irritated glance.

"Harper, stay out of this." Before the engineer could answer, his attention was turned back to Trance, who looked all too aware of what he was about to say. "How could you tell Beka to go back to Tyr? I mean, I know you have some _strange_ ideas sometimes, and most of the time I've trusted you, Trance, but what kind of right do you think you have..." Harper held his hands up and stared at Trance.

"Hang on a second," he said loudly. "She just came back from that…thing…and you want to send her back? Trance, what…"

"There are a great deal of things you don't understand," Trance replied calmly, looking at Dylan. "But you've got to believe me when I say…"

"No," Dylan cut her off, lifting his finger to point warningly at her face. "_You_ have got to believe _me_ when I say; if you _ever_ suggest anything like this again, you're off the ship!" Trance stared at him.

"Dylan, I've never lied to you before…I wouldn't say this if I didn't really believe it was necessary. It pains me as much as it pains you to have to think about her leaving again…"

"Oh, really? Does it? Funny, cause I didn't see you staying awake as long as you could every night trying to search for her. I didn't see you laying through sleepless nights, and waking up with nightmares if you did finally get to sleep. I didn't see you comforting her last night when she was in _pieces_ because of what you said. You know what, Trance? I'm starting to wonder whether you care about anything, as long as it doesn't get in the way for whatever plans it is you have."

"That's not…"

"I don't want to hear it Trance. And I don't want to hear another word about Beka going back to Tyr. It's out of the question. Is that understood?" There was a pause as Trance bit her lip.

"Yes." Her voice was low, defeated. Dylan turned on his heel and stalked out, leaving Harper who was staring incredulously at Trance.

It wasn't until on his way out that he discovered Beka, who had been quite firmly hidden behind the various plants growing in the pod ahead of her. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he turned away, leaving the room. Trance and Harper were already in fervent conversation when she left.

"Dylan!" He stopped, his features tired as he turned back to face her.

"Yes?" She suddenly felt…almost shy. She lifted her arm to rub her neck nervously as she fidgeted, trying to find out what it was she had wanted to say.

"I'm…I…heard what you said in there."

"I see. I didn't realise." There was a childish honesty in his voice, and she scrutinised his face for a moment. No…he had said it because he meant it, not to make her believe how he felt. If there was even a possibility, no matter how small, that he wouldn't hate her…it had to be explored.

"I'm sorry," she offered.

"Why?" His voice sounded genuinely confused. "If anything, you're the victim in this…"

"I know, but…I should have trusted you. I shouldn't have said what I did earlier."

"No," he replied, nodding. "No, you shouldn't. But it's not _my_ feelings I'm worried about, Beka, it's yours. I don't want you to feel like I'll hate you just because your genetics were changed. You've always opposed me, broken my orders, done what you think is right when you want…why should any of that change? Why would I expect it to?"

"It can hardly get worse," Beka admitted, not stifling her amusement. He stepped a little closer and grabbed her hand.

"So when you oppose me, argue with me, don't do what you're told…I won't think it's because you're Nietzschean, but because you're _you_." She smiled slightly.

"I guess that's…a compliment. In it's own way." He nodded and let go of her hand, taking a step back.

"Anyway," he said conclusively, "I need to get some breakfast, and we've both got a shift on Command in twenty minutes. Rhade gets so annoyed when I'm late. I'll see you there." She nodded mutely, and as she saw him walk away in the corridor, her whole body tensed and froze up.

"_I've been such a fool!_" 


	35. Chapter 35

"Beka!" Her head snapped up and she quickly looked around her. Dylan? No, of course not. The Nietzschean. With a scowl, she turned around, ignoring him. All right, so she wasn't paying attention, but after all, it wasn't as if they were doing anything important. She had better things to think about than whatever military protocols Lieutenant Stiffspine had in mind. "Beka, pay attention!" OK, he was irritating her now. She turned around and rolled her eyes at him.

"To what?" she inquired sarcastically. "The magog worldship coming towards us? The swarm of Drago-Katzov fighters chasing? Or just your ego, _Lieutenant_?"

"The time in Anasazi's fasthood obviously made you lazy," he snapped, "perhaps you need to be reminded that during duty one _works_, not sits around and…daydreams." Her lips pursed together and she glared angrily at him.

"For your information, I was _not_ daydreaming. Do you need to be reminded that I outrank you?" He stared incredulously at her.

"You're not even _part_ of the High Guard!" She snorted with mock amusement.

"And by 'High Guard' I assume you mean the group of cowards hiding away on Terazed? How…brave of you. I mean, it took Dylan to come along to actually _do_ anything about what happened, which is more than I can say about you. Regardless of what you say, I'm the first officer of this ship, you are not." He raised his arm, boneblades stretched out as his eyes squinted in anger.

"I'll teach you to…"

"Hey!" Dylan stepped in between them. "What's wrong with the two of you, you're acting like children!" Still glaring at Rhade, she barely paid attention to what Dylan was saying. How dared this Uber say those things to her? It was his ancestors who had caused the fall in the first place, she could have very well been brought up in a safe environment and joined the High Guard if that hadn't happened. With an angry growl, she threw herself at him and, taken by surprise, he fell to the floor with her straddling him, baring her boneblades for fight. He tried to roll away, but before she could compensate, she felt strong hands pull her off the floor. Dylan turned her around and, with an angry expression, stared at her, his hands clenching her shoulders tightly. "Beka, that's it. I understand you've been through a lot, but for Divine's sake, get out of here and cool down!" She opened her mouth to protest, but realised she actually had gone too far. Silently, she walked out of Command, cursing under her breath. She'd let another Nietzschean get the better of her again. Walking towards the Maru, she bit down hard on her lip. After all the strange stuff she'd been doing since the night before, would Dylan start to think she was insane soon?

"No, he won't," she told herself out loud. "He'll understand." She'd go talk to him later. Turning on her heel, she changed directions and walked towards the gym. If this conversation was to go as she hoped, she needed to blow some steam first.

"Would you like me to press the bell for you?" Beka jumped as Andromeda's hologram addressed her somewhat sarcastically.

"Huh?" was all she could get out. Rommie crossed her arms over her ample chest and raised an eyebrow.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes," she announced crisply. "The bell isn't going to magically press itself." She smiled a little, tilting her head. "I'm sure whatever it is, it won't be as bad as you think." Beka nodded and smiled back nervously.

"Of course. You're right." Quickly, before she could change her mind, she stretched out her hand and pressed the bell. Rommie smiled and vanished. Before long, Dylan was at the door, blinking at her a little surprised.

"Beka?"

"Yeah. Um, I just wanted to apologise for what happened earlier," she said, figuring she may as well get it over and done with. "Can we talk?" He nodded and stepped aside.

"Of course. Beka, I don't want to pretend I don't see how this has been difficult for you, but…"

"I know," she cut him off, nodding. "It's not an excuse. Dylan, I didn't come here expecting you to let me off because I was…upset, or whatever. I should have been able to deal with it."

"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, you should have. I mean, not that it wasn't Rhade's fault too…"

"…but I was the one to lose control. I'm…maybe we'll learn to work together."

"I hope so." An awkward silence fell over them as neither knew what to say, but weren't quite willing to end the conversation. "If…" Dylan started awkwardly, "if you ever need to talk, or…something…"

"What, like last night? Doesn't seem like you need to tell me…" She laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. "Listen, Dylan…I'm not sure I thanked you enough for what you did. It really meant a lot to me."

"I've already said I didn't mind," he protested lightly. "I liked it, I mean…it was nice!"

"Yes," Beka replied slowly, "it was. Um, Dylan…" She trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"What?"

"I'm not quite sure how to ask you, but…"

"Yes?" She looked up at him, briefly wondering why she'd even come there for, but quickly scolding herself. She had already decided. Before he could react, she placed her hand on the back of his neck and kissed him gently. 


	36. Chapter 36

  
When they separated a moment later, she noted he didn't look as surprised as she would have expected. Instead, his face was peculiarly calm, his eyes twinkling at her in amusement.

"What was that for?" he asked, his voice bearing obvious suspicion of being joked with. Her heart fell. All the build-up she'd gone through to do this, and it hadn't worked out the way she had expected it to.

"For…being the only one who still treats me the same. I mean, Harper thinks I need fixing like some genetic experiment – like I haven't had enough of that, and Trance wants to use me for her own purposes – as if I hadn't had enough of being treated like an object either. I guess I see a ghost of Tyr wherever I go…except in you. And…I guess your support is greatly appreciated." He smiled confusedly.

"I'm…glad to hear I've done things right, but this required kissing me? Like…that?" She didn't reply. "I'm sorry, it's just that all other times when you've kissed me, it's been for someone else's benefit. Elsbett, that thief…"

"I don't see anyone else here," she replied softly. He took a step closer.

"No, there is no one else here," he confirmed. "That's why I was hoping you would explain." Beka smiled at him. Lifting her hand, she treaded her fingers through his hair, stroking it out of the way.

"I thought I did." He laughed slightly and, placing his hand over hers, gave her a serious look.

"No, not really. Beka, I need to know…" She wasn't sure what she would say. She wasn't even sure what it was she wanted him to put through. He stared at her expectantly. Oh God. She swallowed. She'd started this, she couldn't just leave him hanging now.

"I think…" She took a deep breath. "I think once you've gone through something like this, it shows what your priorities are…and perhaps what they should be. It shows you who you can really rely on." His eyes darted back and forth, unable to settle on her.

"You don't need to feel…like you _owe_ me, or…"

"No!" She exclaimed. "That's not what I meant at all. Geez Dylan, you know…you know I'm not like that. I…take what I want. It has nothing to do with _owing_ anyone anything." He seemed to be deep in thought for a moment.

"So…would it be presumptuous for me to assume that kiss meant that you want…me?"

"I'm not sure," she managed. "I mean, we've been on this ship together for two years, so it's a bit strange for me to suddenly…or maybe it isn't. I don't know."

He took a deep breath and, with what seemed like great pain, declared; "Beka, I'm not doing this so that you'll sleep with me. If that's what you think it takes…"

"Dylan, no! For God's sake, stop getting me wrong!" She was getting frustrated now. "I did it because I wanted to, all right? It had nothing to do with what I owe you, or wanting to make sure you keep treating me as you've done, it's to do with something I realised!"

"What's that?"

"It's…partly to do with Tyr." She saw his jaw grind slightly, but ignored it. "He's an arrogant, selfish bastard, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him."

"You can't possibly…"

"_Was_, Dylan. There is no way I could see past it now. I suppose in a way it was those qualities, in addition to his…" she paused, "body of course," she made a slight wave of her hand to minimise the impact of the statement. "I spent far too much time trying to impress him, and I don't even know why. I mean, honestly Dylan, what did he have for me? What's the point in falling for someone like that? Even ignoring the fact that he's Nietzschean, let's pretend he was human, and we did start a relationship. I would never have been happy with him, he'd have continued treating me with the same arrogance, putting his own interests first every time. Why do I fall for someone like that? Why do they even interest me? I should be falling for someone who will treat me right in every situation, not just when it suits them. What's happened, it…it shows me that you are that person. I mean, I know it's been difficult for you to see me like this, but I've barely noticed it in you. It's like you know how much harder it is for me, and have therefore ignored your own feelings, trying to make me feel better. No one else has done that Dylan, since I came back. No one." If she didn't know better, she could have sworn he was blushing.

"Wow, that's…quite a speech."

"You don't have to…I mean, I only wanted to let you know." She turned to leave, taking a deep breath. She wasn't sure whether she should have even said anything in the first place. All she'd done was put pressure on him, and embarrassed herself. To what end?

"Where are you going?" She turned around, frowning. He stretched out his hand and smiled at her. She took it tentatively.

"I'm not sure…"

"Why don't you stay? I'll get some dinner, and we could…talk. About things." Feeling relieved and terrified at the same time, she let herself be led back into the room. 


	37. Chapter 37

She sighed deeply with a smile as she burrowed herself further under the duvet, snuggling up to him. He was still asleep, but this time she felt no worries about what he was thinking. She had been wrong all along, of course she had; like so many times before. It seemed it really was true that his dislike for Nietzscheans didn't extend to her, and he had treated her exactly the same as before.

"_Well…_" she smiled. "_Maybe not _exactly…" She curled her fingers into the hair on his chest and started playing with it, subsequently waking him up. She pulled her hand away quickly and managed a half-hearted; "Sorry…" The look on his face suggested no apology was necessary, and he rolled over onto his side, his hand stroking her face.

"I must admit I'm a bit surprised," he said eventually, smiling to show it wasn't a bad surprise.

"I know," she replied simply. "Me too."

"I know that most of our relationships tend to be…"

"Short," she finished for him. "And not usually relationships at all. You mean people we've slept with."

"Yes," he confirmed. "But…that's not how I want things to be. Are you…I mean…"

"If I wanted a one-night-stand, I wouldn't have picked the Captain of the ship," Beka replied. "More trouble than it's worth." He looked relieved and a little offended at the same time.

"Speaking of that, are you…on anything?"

"I'm on birth control, yes. I stopped taking them, obviously, during my time with Tyr, but I went back on them once I came back."

"Right, that's…good," he confirmed. "There are so many things we should talk about, but…I just can't seem to bring myself to do it." He smiled and put his arm around her back, pulling her closer to him. "I don't want to be sensible, Beka. I don't want to say _let's take it slow_ or…" She rolled on top of him, placing her finger gently over his lips.

"You don't have to. Dylan, life – at least for people like us – is unpredictable. We don't know what's in front of us."

"But we can plan. What are your plans?" Her expression darkened.

"Plans are for people who have control over their own lives," she said, her voice wavering. "I had plans Dylan. I had plans once, but they were swept away by those who believed I needed to be a part of a greater good. Now I don't know anymore what my plans are, or if they're even mine. No…I have to live for today, for this very moment, because I have no idea whether tomorrow I'll still be here…if I'll still be alive." His brow furrowed and he lifted his hand to stroke the hair from her face.

"Don't say that," he warned. "I – hate to hear you say that."

"Sometimes I think I'd prefer it," she mumbled. "The thought of going back to him – Dylan, I can't bear it."

"You don't…"

"Perhaps once I loved him," Beka whispered. "But he isn't that man anymore. I'm not sure he ever was. And he may say he loves me, but he never truly did. It's as if you've proven that to me by accepting me, not asking me to change. I don't want to think of tomorrow, Dylan." He nodded and, putting his arms tightly around her, held her close.

"And we don't have to," he replied quietly. "We'll live for now."

* * *

"For now," Trance said as she approached, the glittering sunbeams reflecting in her companion's eyes. "The circumstances have changed."

"They can't change," was the simple reply.

"Perhaps they have to." Her voice was sharp, demanding. They stared at each other for a moment before both settling down, their legs dangling from the edge of a ray of light.

"She has to come back," Lana said simply.

"She's my friend," Trance attempted, "and she doesn't understand why this has to happen. Perhaps it would be easier if she could calm down, if I could help her understand…" She paused. "What is Tyr doing?"

"He is not going to come after your ship, if that's what you're asking," Lana replied. "As far as the court is concerned, she left on his command, and she is to return. When; he refuses to say. I'm not sure what he's planning to do if she never returns." With the last sentence, she threw a suggestive glance at Trance, who sighed.

"She will return," she pledged. "It's just a matter of…unforeseen circumstances."

"What kind?" Trance paused.

"Dylan."

"You mean…" Lana trailed off, and was answered with a nod. "That's not good."

"They both deserve it."

"And _we_ both know that isn't the point." Aggravated, Trance stared at her.

"Have we forgotten, in all our quest for the universe, the people in it? The people we are actually saving? I'm starting to think…perhaps we should find another way."

"There is no other way," Lana replied sharply.

"There has to be! Tyr is just one man, there has to be something other than Beka who can make him…"

"There isn't. Trance, you can wait for now – but either you get her back, or I will." With a flicker, she disappeared, leaving Trance alone in the light of the sun ahead. She turned, sliding off the ray, and stared into the space surrounding her.

"It was only ever a dream," she whispered to herself.


	38. Chapter 38

"Lord Anazasi." Mansgris had entered the room intending on formal business, but seeing the irritation on his comrade's face he decided to turn the discussion towards more positive news. "Ariadne has offered for you," he said, hoping to elicit a suitable response. He did not. Tyr growled and glared at him as if he had just suggested eating the Kodiak's first born for dinner.

"You know as well as the rest of the court Rebekah Valentine will be my first wife. Ariadne can return with her offer after we have married, should she still be interested." Mansgris moved to speak, then changed his mind at the last second. This did not go unnoticed. "What is it you have to say?"

"Sir – my Lord, if Rebekah is not here now, why not take another wife? You are wasting valuable time in which you could create children." Tyr stalked up to him and, slamming his fist into the desk, glared at him angrily. His self-control appeared to be failing, and Mansgris took a few cautious steps backwards.

"Did you not listen to me?" he said in a deadly slow voice. "Rebekah has left for a reason. Did it occur to you that perhaps you do not need to know all of my plans ahead of time?" Pursing his lips together, Mansgris turned on his heel and left. Tyr watched him leave, then turned with a growl and walked over to the window.

He had to face the very likely possibility that she would not return and yet…he couldn't. He could go after her, but that would cause concern among his subjects. They would be unable to understand why he would chase an unwilling woman for a wife, and the offers for him would definitely stop. If females knew Beka had fled, they would be certain to think there was something wrong with him, which would not only prevent him from having many wives and children, but also put him in doubt as the leader of the Nietzschean people.

He could not risk that for one woman.

The solution, really, was simple. He could tell his advisors Beka had died, or that he had rejected her as a wife, and his reputation would not be tarnished. He could take as many wives as he wanted, and when word came out the position of first wife was available, he would see no end to the offers. He thought of Ariadne, her long blonde hair, her green eyes, her full lips…her boldness in offering for him when she knew he was tied up was impressive. She was beautiful and smart with good heritage, and yet he saw…nothing.

He knew he had to give Beka up. But it was impossible.

Her hair swung from side to side as she walked down the corridor with a definite spring in her step. She couldn't help smiling to herself as she thought back on the last few days. Her relationship with Dylan had been developing quickly, but somehow she didn't mind. He'd even started hinting at moving some of her stuff into his quarters, which she'd skilfully rejected. She wasn't about to throw herself into a relationship, not now. And if they were to move in together, well, it would have to be on the Maru. Still…it felt nice. It felt _very_ nice.

"Hey, Harper," she said cheerfully as she passed him in the corridor. He stopped and stared at her.

"You're talking to me?" She turned around, frowning.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just…" he looked away, a shy look suddenly appearing on his face. "You didn't exactly seem _happy_ with my idea…and you haven't exactly been talking to me since then…"

"Oh." Beka was a little dumbfounded. She _had_ avoided him at first, but…she wasn't angry anymore. Not at all. She smiled. "Sorry about that, I, um, I know you didn't mean it like Tyr did."

"I didn't!" Harper hurried to say. "I mean, I don't care if you're magog, you'll still be my best friend! I just thought, I mean, maybe _you_ would want…"

"I know, Harper, I know. It's all fine, ok?" He relaxed significantly.

"Um, and also…well I thought you should know I heard about what Trance said to you." So he hadn't noticed her in the room during the altercation. "And, um," he gave her an awkward look, "you're not actually…_going to_, are you?" She shook her head quickly.

"Listen, Harper, I like Trance, she's helped me a lot in the past, but there are things I won't do for her. Marrying Anasazi and becoming his baby-machine is one of them." She put her arm comfortingly around his shoulders. "Want to go get some breakfast?"

"Sure. Actually, I meant to come and find you earlier, but you weren't on the Maru."

"I stayed in my Andromeda quarters."

"I checked there too. Then I asked Andromeda, and she said you were in Dylan's quarters."

"Oh!" A little awkwardly, she let go of him. "Well, we had some stuff to discuss."

"At five in the morning?"

"Well, y- why were you looking for me at five in the morning?" Harper grinned.

"Hey, boss…you can tell me, are you, you know?" She stopped and looked awkwardly at him.

"I didn't want to…I mean, not yet. It's nothing _personal_..."

"Hey, it's fine," he interrupted. "If it makes you happy, that's great. Certainly better than Tyr. Although, I hope you're not doing it _because_ of Tyr…"

"Definitely not," she said determinedly. He nodded and smiled.

"In that case; congratulations." He was silent for a minute, and then spoke again. "So, um, I mean, now that you know…how does he do it? Get all the girls I mean? What is he like?" Her mouth spreading into a wide grin, she again put her arm around him and started walking down the corridor.

"I'll tell you all about it…"


	39. Chapter 39

"You practically live here already." The statement was playful, but had a very serious undertone that she couldn't possibly miss. She sighed and, drawing her hand through her blonde locks, sought her mind for a reply. It wasn't that she didn't want to live with him, but something about it frightened her. She couldn't stop thinking about Tyr, and the fear and knowledge she was not yet wholly free of him had kept her up several nights. Could she pull Dylan into this confusing mess? The truth was that she had already, unbeknownst to both of them at the time. The revelation at what Tyr would do to him, were he ever to come after her, had only recently come to her, and she was frightened. For Dylan, and for herself.

"I don't know," she finally said, the best answer she could have come up with at the time. He didn't look particularly impressed and she sighed again, leaning her forehead against his chest. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"What's wrong?" She formed her lips into a small "o" and slowly blew out the air in her lungs.

"It's Tyr." She felt him tense up, and his head leave hers. Closing her eyes, she didn't speak again and silence fell over the room. After a few seconds, Dylan let go of her and took a few steps back.

"I see," he said firmly. Beka noticed he looked a bit like a lost puppy behind a stoic high guard mask, unsure of what to do with himself. Suddenly, he simply turned around and sat down at his desk, pretending to read a flexi. It took her a few seconds to work out what exactly had had him so offended, but once it dawned on her, she was fast to act.

"Dylan, no…God, no!" To illustrate her point, she strode up to him and kissed him firmly. "Do you really think…after what he did to me?" She held up her forearms offensively before his face. He looked a little uncomfortable.

"Of course not. I'm sorry. But what _did_ you mean?" She sighed and sat down opposite him.

"I'm scared of him. I'm scared he hasn't given me up, that he'll come after me." He tried to interrupt, but she held a hand up to stop him. "If we are together then, it will only make things worse! Nietzscheans are extremely possessive of their mates, and although we aren't married, he considers me his."

"And I consider you mine," Dylan replied. "Are you afraid he will hurt me?" He sounded mildly amused, which irritated her.

"What, you don't think he could?"

"Beka, I'm certain that he could. He's bigger, stronger, and fitter than I am, but that isn't at all the point."

"Then what is?" He moved in a little closer.

"That I am not the kind of person who shies away because I might get hurt. Especially not if it means giving up what could well be the best thing that ever happened to me." Was she the type to blush, Beka'd have been tomato-red by now, but as it was, she merely lowered her gaze and felt the corners of her mouth twitch in an unsettling way.

"Dylan, I…" She rose awkwardly, her mind working frantically to make up a reason to excuse herself, as well as fighting a peculiar urge to laugh. Swiftly, he was behind her, catching her by the shoulders.

"I'm not going to let you get away this time," he joked, half-teasing, half-serious. "We need to talk about this." Smiling, she turned around to face him, placing her arms lazily around his neck.

"Why do we always have to talk?" she murmured. "I can think of better things to do." His face revealed temptation, but he appeared to fight the obvious urges.

"You can't just distract me like this…"

"That's not what I'm trying to do," she reassured him. "I'm just realising that you are right. All that matters is that I love you. Forget Tyr, forget Trance, let's just be together and deal with things when and if they happen." A smile broke out on his face, and he pulled her closer.

"Good. Because I don't think I'll be letting you out of my bed ever again."

* * *

It wasn't like the Maru would be far away, but packing together her things in boxes still felt strange in a symbolic kind of way. She had never really embraced her Andromeda quarters, although she sometimes slept or took a shower there. Now she was to live in Dylan's.

"It will be fine," she tried to convince herself. "There's nothing to worry about." Turning around, she gave a slight shriek when Trance was standing right ahead of her. "Why do you sneak up on me like that?" she asked in an accusing tone.

"I'm sorry," Trance replied apologetically. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Beka nodded.

"Well, since you're here, you can help me carry these boxes." Not even Trance could ruin the feeling of excitement fluttering in her stomach.

"Sure," the golden alien replied, picking one of them up. "Where are you moving them to?"

"Dylan's quarters," Beka replied, her tone almost defiant.

"I see. You're moving in?"

"Yes, I am. Why wait? No point being coy and avoidant when we can be happy together…" Trance put down the box with a start and stared at Beka.

"Beka, you…know this cannot last."

"What, you don't think Dylan…" As realisation dawned on her she laughed, although there was no joy in it. "Oh! Oh, I see…we're back to this again. Trance, save your little dramas for someone who cares."

"I thought _you_ cared."

"About what? Blindly following your every whim? No Trance, that isn't what I care about. I'm not letting you control me now so that Tyr can do it for a lifetime."

"That isn't what I meant," Trance replied calmly. I thought you cared what happens to the people you love. You have the chance to save them, to save everyone around you, and you won't take it! Why?"

"Because I only have your word that something is going to happen! You won't even tell me how, and I'm just supposed to trust you. I can't do that." Without a word, Trance turned and left. The excitement of the move had been all but ripped from Beka's heart, and with a new lack of enthusiasm she lifted a box up and started carrying it out of the ship.


	40. Chapter 40

She couldn't concentrate on her work. She knew the dreams must have been caused by stress, and too many changes in her life, but she couldn't help feeling like there was something else to it. Premonitions? Surely not. She'd never believed in all that superstitious mumbo-jumbo, but then again, with what she'd experienced over the past few years…who knew what was folk tales and what wasn't?

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she tried to push the dream into the back of her mind, but inevitably, it snuck back again, occupying her thoughts violently. The reoccurring dream was…disturbing. So was her mood. It was as if her hormones had suddenly decided to go on a surfing trip, riding up and down and all over the place. She guessed maybe they were connected in some way.

The dream was different each time, but always circled around the same theme; the destruction of the Andromeda, and the death of Dylan. Sometimes she was killed with it, and would wake up suddenly in a sweat, but most of the time she was left watching as her friends were destroyed, realising she was completely alone. Somehow, she would know it was all her fault.

She tried to ignore the fact this seemed on par with what Trance had been saying. For all she knew, she was traumatised from all the harassing, and that's why she was dreaming in the first place. She sighed. Somehow that didn't convince her at all. The nagging feeling in the back of her mind kept telling her that usually, Trance was right after all…wasn't she?

"Pay attention!" Rhade snapped next to her. She shot him an irritated glance. "Your shift finished five minutes ago."

"I'm sorry you couldn't get rid of me sooner," she muttered. "I'm sure every extra moment hurt." He shook his head in frustration, but didn't reply. She didn't bother to continue the discussion either, and left command in a foul mood. Without any proper explanation, Dylan had simply left work earlier, leaving her alone with Rhade. She didn't want to ask him why, didn't want to seem clingy, or as if she was scared to be alone with the Nietzschean. Still, it annoyed her. Why could _he_ just leave when he felt like it?

Deciding to go straight back to their quarters and ask him about it, in a professional capacity of course, she sped up her pace. It just didn't seem fair. She'd felt quite sick earlier that morning and had wanted to go back to their quarters and rest, but he'd insisted she'd stay, and yet when _he_ felt like leaving a few hours later, he just did. Beka was feeling grumpy and angry, and stormed into their quarters, where she stopped dead.

* * *

She watched the possibilities fly around her, some of them shining and glittering, some dully dark, almost crumbling. The dreams were…almost perfect. Beka Valentine was bound to break, if not now, then soon. And yet…she studied the possibilities closer. Was it possible that Beka was more resilient than she thought? Her perfect outcome did not seem so certain as she had hoped. The shining, glittering futures outnumbered the others, but the dark ones were still there.

She was not a bad person, but sometimes people had to be hurt for the greater good. After her companion had refused to help, insisted that they would find another way, she had to do this on her own.

Gemini was foolish. There was no other way.

* * *

The anger that had been pounding in her bloodstream seemed to immediately dull down as she saw the scene he had prepared. There were candles strewn across the dark room, and a huge bunch of flowers in a vase on the table, that he must have spent forever bargaining with Trance for. There was a heavenly smell originating from the table too, Beka suspected he had not cooked it himself, but that didn't matter. The room looked perfect. _They_ were perfect.

"So this was why you left earlier?" she said, her voice soft, her mouth split in a large, genuine grin.

"It was, I'm afraid. And why I wouldn't let you leave. Sorry about that, I just…"

"No, that's fine," she reassured him. "I wasn't that sick, mostly just tired and grumpy." A look of relief flashed across his face.

"That's good, cause I wouldn't want you to miss out on this food."

"Yes, where did you get that from?" Beka asked, walking around him to have a closer look at it. "Cause if that came from the autochef, I want to know how you did it…"

"It's not," he smiled. She stared at him.

"Don't tell me you cooked it. If you did, I'm even more…"

"Not that either, I'm afraid. It's…a special delivery." He paused for dramatic effect. "From Cavanaugh's." Wide-eyed, she simply stared for a fraction of a second, before throwing her arms around him and kissing him for nearly a minute. When they pulled apart, he fought for air.

"Cavanaugh's don't deliver. That must have cost you an arm and a leg!" He grinned.

"Let's just say it helps to be the hero of the Commonwealth. Come on, let's eat before it gets cold." There were no complains from Beka on that matter. As she started eating, she realised she was ravenous, and it took her a minute or two to look up from her food.

"So, um…what's the occasion?" she asked, embarrassed that this was the first she thought of it.

"It's been two months since you moved in," he reminded her. She grinned again.

"That's a…strange kind of celebration."

"Well, I'm a strange kind of guy," he countered. "You seem hungry."

"I didn't eat much before," she explained, "which I'm now eternally grateful for. Imagine filling up on a sandwich before coming back here…"

They kissed, and an hour later they were fast asleep, their plates cleared and their energy spent. Dylan looked peaceful with a smile on his face, but Beka's face was frowning, and she didn't seem to be resting at all.

Lana smiled.


	41. Chapter 41

What would she say? _"Dylan, I dreamt that the Andromeda was destroyed and you died, would you fix it for me?"_ And what would he say to that? He'd just tell her what she'd told herself, that it's just a dream, that the recurrence of it probably has to do with the stress she'd been through, and maybe she should see Trance. In a medical sense, obviously.

"Yeah," she mumbled sarcastically under her breath. "Go tell Trance about my dreams foreshadowing what she told me. Great idea. She's bound to tell me the medical reason behind it and tuck me into bed with reassurances." Still, she couldn't bring herself to go back to Dylan's – to _their_ quarters to sleep just yet. The nightmares had been getting increasingly graphic lately, and it seemed as if it was more and more difficult for her to wake up from them. Several times already she'd slept through her alarm, and Dylan had told her how he'd tried to wake her for minutes and eventually almost had to shout.

He'd be wondering where she was right now. _She_ wasn't even quite sure where she was going, but unavoidably, her route took her to the Maru. The comforting smell of the old ship hit her as soon as she entered, the hiss of the doors bringing her an odd sense of comfort. She walked into the crew quarters and sat down on a bunk, kicking her shoes off and leaning back against the wall. Closing her eyes, she smiled a little and called;

"Harper, I know you're here."

With a goofy grin, he appeared from the corridor leading to the engine room. She smiled at him and he seemed to relax, jumping up on the bunk opposite her.

"I was just…you know, checking her over."

"I figured."

"So, shouldn't you be all…cosied up with Dylan?" She wrinkled her nose and snorted.

"I'm not married, you know. I am allowed to be by myself." He held his hands up.

"Hey, just asking!" She grinned and threw a cushion at him.

"Yeah, right." They fell silent again, almost uncomfortably so, until Harper tentatively continued.

"I always meant to ask you…I mean, no offense or anything, but I kinda never expected you to move in with Dylan. I mean, not cause he's Dylan," he hurried to add, "but just cause…well, I thought you were happier on your own."

"Oh, I…well, I suppose…" She sighed. "I was so lonely for a long time."

"When you were…" He didn't seem quite able to finish the sentence, but she nodded.

"Yes. I just…don't really want to be lonely now, you know? And well, I could do worse, couldn't I?" she asked playfully.

"Sure…half the women in the galaxy seem to think so."

"Oh, as if I'm one of them," Beka replied in a scornful tone Elsbett Bolivar would have been proud of. "I'm not about to go gushing at his feet begging for him to…Ow!" She rubbed her shin where Harper kicked her.

"I've heard enough!" he exclaimed. "You're not one of Dylan's conquests, all right."

"Damn straight!" she grinned.

"So," his face screwed up in a goofy grimace, "is it 'true wuv'?" He wrapped his arms around himself. "Has he said 'The L Word'? Have you?"

"Oh, shut up!" Suddenly she felt drained, as if the jokey feeling of the situation had completely gone away. She felt tired too, her eyelids drooping heavily, and she couldn't resist the temptation to lie down and close them. Harper seemed to sense the sudden change in mood and gently sat down on the edge of her bunk.

"So…why aren't you there now?" She shrugged him off.

"Wanted to be alone I guess."

"Ah. Am I spoiling it?" She smiled tiredly.

"Nah, not really. But I _am_ kinda tired." He stood up.

"OK, point taken. I was going anyway. See you later." She looked up and gave him a little wave.

"See you, Seamus."

The words seemed to echo off the silence once he'd left, and she almost wanted to call him back. It wasn't as if she was going to sleep anyway. Well, she'd have to eventually, but not yet. Dylan would be wondering where she was.

"Why aren't I going back?" she whispered to herself. It wasn't only to do with sleeping, she knew that. There was something else, something worse…much worse. She couldn't work out what it was yet, but every time she closed her eyes she saw him in front of her…dying, in all these different ways. She saw every explosion, every drop of blood as if it was on permanent replay on the inside of her eyelids. She'd felt faint and sick on several occasions throughout the last days, and it was a wonder she hadn't been forced into medical yet.

And somehow, now, it hurt her to see him at all.

More and more, the visions had begun to work their way into her mind, turned from mere dreams to something more important. It was all a muddle, and she couldn't quite work out what she thought it was yet. It had to mean something, she knew that, but whether it was merely remnants of Trance's harassment, which she had initially believed, or a foreshadowing of what was to happen she didn't know, but she was leaning more and more towards the latter. It wasn't just the dreams; she had slowly started to believe it.

_"Maybe I just didn't want to believe it before. Maybe I was too preoccupied with my own happiness to…"_ She didn't want to think it. All her friends…Dylan…dead. How did she even have a choice? The answer was much too simple: She didn't. "Well Trance," she said to the empty air. "I suppose you win."

A pang of pain went through her body when she thought of Dylan, waiting in their quarters, wondering when she was coming. He wouldn't want to come looking for her yet, didn't want her to feel reigned in. How long would it take before he started chasing her now? Would Trance be able to stop him? She doubted it.

She bit her lip as she sat down in the pilot's chair, every nerve of her body wanting to fight what she was about to do, but her stubbornness clamped it down, forcing it to go on. Tyr would kill Dylan if he found out about them. They would all die, and it would be her fault. They'd been willing to risk so much for her, she had to repay the favour. She had to save them. Opening a channel to the Andromeda, she quickly planned her speech.

"There's something urgent I need to take care of, so I'm going to be gone for a short while. Let Dylan know." Andromeda frowned.

"You'd better clear that with him," she replied.

"No – look, it's really urgent."

"I can pass you through to him"

"Andromeda, please, we've…had a row, and I need to put some distance between us and clear my head. You don't want two grumpy, sleep-deprived commanding officers, do you? I'm afraid if I speak to him, it'll all just spark off again." Andromeda was silent for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought.

"Opening hangar doors." Beka hesitated.

"Wait, Andromeda…if I recorded a message, would you give it to him when I've gone?" She nodded and disappeared, leaving the recording mirror screen in her place. Beka took a deep breath and said all that she had left to say; "I love you."


	42. Chapter 42

I know that may have looked like the end, but there's plenty to go, mwahahaha! (besides, it would just be mean)

Thanks for the reviews! I do love them even if it's only a few words, so, um...i can has? *blush* Anyway, on to the story, since, you know, stories are cool and all that.

* * *

She was quickly ushered into in room and told to wait there. An unpleasant feeling of déjà vu came over her as the door clicked, letting her know without a doubt she was, as seemed so common in this place, locked in. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, and how much her mind knew it had been the right decision, her heart couldn't seem to agree. She had often felt a relationship with Tyr was very desirable. Now she had to pretend to believe so again.

The time seemed to have passed so quickly, almost as if it was only yesterday they were sparring in the gym, flirting recklessly on the obs deck, or doing some harmless arguing on Command. Where had that relationship gone? She had always been interested in him, even though she'd never admit it now, but as soon as _he_ decided he wanted her, the entire universe had to be turned upside down. It didn't seem fair, and yet the Tyr she had come to know over the years seemed foremost in her mind, perhaps because of the time they'd recently spent apart.

Had she believed in a higher power, she'd have prayed at this moment, because knowing what her life was about to become, that was the Tyr her mind wanted to keep. She wasn't sure whether it was even possible, but the rest of her life, most likely a longer time after her genetic changes, was a pretty daunting prospect with a man she resented. Her stomach felt as it was thumping as she sat down, hoping fervently she could forgive him.

* * *

"She said _what_?"

"She said you'd had a row and needed some time apart. Am I to understand this didn't happen?"

"No! But it _will_!"

"Captain?"

"I waited for her all evening, I thought…she needed some space, and instead she lies to you and takes off without clearance!"

"I…apologise. I should have asked your permission." Dylan shook it off.

"It's not your fault. She's the first officer, there is no reason why you should distrust her."

"True. But I can't see a reason why she would lie to me. Is it possible you've…misjudged the situation?"

"Misjudged _what_ exactly? We didn't have an argument."

"Well, I'm no relationship counsellor, but…sometimes those things can seem one-sided. Perhaps you had a discussion which you interpreted different ways?" Dylan sighed.

"I guess it's possible," he admitted. "Although I've never known Beka to hold back when she gets offended." Andromeda attempted a smile.

"She said she wouldn't be long," she reassured him. "I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"I sure hope so," he replied. "If she's not back by tonight, we're going looking for her."

"Are you sure that's…"

"A good idea? Look, Rommie, I…Beka doesn't like feeling trapped, I if anyone know that, but running off like this is outright childish and…I want this relationship to work, and if it's going to work, well, we…" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

"It's all right, Dylan," Rommie smiled. "I understand."

* * *

She had waited much too long. It was certainly possible he wasn't available, or off-planet, but it would on the other hand not surprise her if he'd decided to leave her there to starve. Walking over to the window, she took a peek at the ground below her. She smiled cynically as she noticed how high up she was. He obviously hadn't forgotten the stunt she'd pulled last time. Well, she couldn't leave, so she just had to hope he didn't want to kill her.

As if on cue to answer her questions, the door opened. Beka's heart missed a beat and her breath seemed stuck in her throat, but it wasn't Tyr, but rather a young woman in very elegant garments carrying a silver tray. The woman's head was turned down, but as she looked up to hand her the tray, Beka recognised her as Desdemona, the Nietzschean who had worked alongside Lana waiting on her in her quarters. She attempted a smile, but it was not returned as the girl sent her a disdainful look and turned quickly on her heel. Beka shrugged and sat down.

"Water and bread, I presume," she muttered as she peeked on the tray, but was pleasantly surprised. The meal was very rich, with a large serving of meat and even some fresh vegetables – or at least a very good imitation. She wasn't particularly hungry, she even felt a little sick, but it was good to know he wasn't intending to keep her on a prison diet. Well, the room didn't much resemble a dungeon anyway.

She spent a few minutes laying back on the bed, trying to think of anything but Dylan. Fighting off the tears that were threatening to well up in her eyes, she kept on trying to convince herself she had made the right decision. Had she stayed, Dylan would have died. Well, most likely anyway. Or so it seemed. The dreams didn't seem to convince her so much now she'd actually gone. The visions weren't so clear in her mind anymore, and she couldn't remember it as graphically as she had. Now, Dylan would be…without her, but alive. It was worth it, surely? She swallowed.

Mercifully interrupting her thoughts, the door opened again, and this time it really was Tyr. He stopped for a minute to stare at her, and her eyes grew wide, fearful of what was about to happen. However, to her genuine surprise, there was no anger in his face as he moved quickly to kneel in front of her, holding her hand gently as he stared up into her face.

"You've returned."


	43. Chapter 43

She stared at him.

"You're not…angry that I left?"

"You needed time to think before you returned. I understand." She wondered briefly how long he'd spent convincing himself that. It seemed incredulous to her somehow, how much he appeared to need her. Tyr wasn't the kind of person who needed anyone.

_"It could be this whole mate-thing is different though,"_ she mused. Despite the fact she was not his mate, Tyr obviously saw it that way and when Tyr decided something was true, it generally turned out that way. She didn't like the sound of that; how she would somehow become his mate just because he had decided it was to be that way.

"I will arrange for our mating to take place," he said quickly, and, with one last adoring glance, stood up. She stared at him speechlessly as he left the room. Did things normally happen this rapidly in Nietzschean society or did he want to tie the knot before she ran away again?

_"Tie the knot is certainly a suitable expression in this situation,"_ she thought, trying to somehow defuse the horror of the situation with sarcasm. She didn't want to think of the implications of the word he'd used; _mating_. Marriage seemed a lot cleaner, somehow, even if it scared the wits out of her as well. Beka wasn't a prude, but the thought of having to cheat on Dylan to save him was sickening to her, not to mention a bit lame.

The fact that he hadn't even asked was a bit infuriating as well. Sure, she'd returned and that probably implied to him she was ready for marriage, but he didn't have to assume. She _wasn't_ ready. Although the truth was, she had to admit to herself, she probably never would be. Hell, she'd never considered marrying out of her own free will, let alone because someone else told her to.

Would she marry Dylan? The question penetrated her mind like an arrow and she couldn't force it out. She loved Dylan, or at least she thought she did. She didn't love Tyr. She had always been attracted to him, and thought of him as a friend, and at one point, maybe that would have been enough. Had he not hurt her in the way he had, perhaps she could have grown to love him. Now…well, it just wasn't possible.

She was surprised to find a tear running down her cheek. Wiping it away quickly, she pushed all thoughts out of her mind and tried to remain on the path she had been on since she decided to return. She had to do this. There was no other way.

* * *

"There is no trace of the Maru," Rommie reported as Dylan entered Command. She had repeated this several times throughout the day and felt almost guilty every time she delivered the message, seeing the disappointed look on his face. She wondered when all this had happened. Dylan had always been fond of Beka, of course she knew that, but he seemed exceptionally fond of everyone on his crew, except perhaps Rhade and Tyr. There was this very protective streak in him towards her, which could be characterised of that as a big brother, but Rommie had always thought that was all there is to it. A brotherly affection and strong friendship. The way it had moved on had rather taken her by surprise.

And given his suspicious nature towards Nietzscheans, the timing of course was amusing.

"I know, I know," he waved it off. "But I've been thinking." She stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. "Maybe we shouldn't chase after her." Rommie raised an eyebrow. "I know I was adamant about it earlier, but maybe I'm taking this a little personally."

"Oh?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know whatever was on his mind, but it was her duty to listen, so she settled in for it.

"When she left I thought of her as a…well, inside our _personal_ relationship, which I shouldn't have done. She's first and foremost a member of my crew whom I promised could leave whenever she wanted to. Our relationship shouldn't make any difference to that, and I don't want her to feel she's suddenly trapped because of it. You know, that's probably why she didn't tell me in the first place because she knew I'd react the way I did. Well, I'm going to prove her wrong. We're not going after her, we'll give her the time she needs, and I'll be patient." He looked at her hopefully as if silently asking for a gold star.

"That's a good idea, Captain," Rommie appeased him. She couldn't help thinking though that he looked very much like a lost puppy.

* * *

Beka was visibly shaking as he returned with the two boxes she had dreaded so much. To her surprise though, he put them safely away before turning to her.

"I have arranged for a large gathering to take place to celebrate our joining," he announced, as if she was somehow supposed to be grateful. Beka didn't much like the sound of it.

"Um…I guess small and quiet is out of the question?" He grinned.

"Our people have been waiting," he replied solemnly. "This is a grand occasion, Beka. After this feast all they will live for is hearing the news of your pregnancy." Her eyes widened and she backed away.

"Surely there's no…rush for that kind of thing?" He moved forth to kiss her, and she responded aversely.

"That is how it works," he responded finally. "On the wedding night we produce a child. Unlike with humans, Nietzschean reproduction very rarely fails." She felt numb, and speechless. Of course she'd known she would have to have children with him, but somehow it hadn't been real up until now. Opening her mouth to protest, she quickly realised it was useless, and she sank down into a sitting position, defeated.

Her life wasn't her own anymore. It hadn't been since she took off from the Andromeda. All she could do now was go along with it, with the knowledge at least Dylan would live.


	44. Chapter 44

Beka smoothed out her hair with her hands nervously, staring at her image in the mirror. Was this what people looked like just before they consciously made the biggest mistake of their life?

"I guess it is," she mumbled to herself, turning away from her reflection with more than a little irritation. She hadn't seen much of Tyr since she got back, which struck her as odd given his demeanour towards her. Perhaps he didn't want to hang out with her too much before this dreaded wedding ceremony. That was the odd thing. Beka could swear Nietzscheans didn't even have wedding ceremonies, and if this was all for _her_ benefit, she would be strangling someone by the end of the day. Preferably someone tall, dark, sporting dreadlocks. Come to think of it, she'd like to do that anyway.

"Ma'am?" One of the young girls that kept flitting in and out of her room stood in the doorway, blinking innocently. "It's time." It was odd to be ordered around by someone who couldn't possibly be over 20, but instead of arguing, Beka just sighed and followed. It wasn't like she could avoid it.

The fear didn't quite start to strike her until she saw the room, and the reality of the situation suddenly became very clear. There was no getting out of this. Spotting Tyr at the other side of the room, she quickly made her way over to him.

"We're not expected to…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word _mate_ he seemed to prefer. It sounded so _primal_ somehow. "…in front of them, are we?"

"Naturally not," he replied, as calmly as ever. "Mating is a very private thing between husband and wife. The ceremony here is merely…symbolic, to please the people. It's what happens when we are alone that really matters."

_"Don't I know it,"_ Beka thought to herself, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She looked around the room. It appeared there were broadcasters there as well as the general audience. She stared at Tyr. "This is going on the _broadcasts_?" He gave her that arrogant smile that she sometimes found attractive and sometimes, like now, simply annoying.

"I didn't ask them to come, Beka. But it's not like it will hurt for people to know how strong we are becoming. They will know I'll have an heir soon."

"Oh yeah," she replied, mostly to herself. "That." There was no point arguing this with him, she knew that by now. The same young girl who had escorted her earlier came up to them with a box, and bowed to Tyr.

"Your helixes," she said in a thin voice. He nodded to Beka, and the girl presented them to her. She took them hesitantly, staring at Tyr, for what she wasn't sure. The girl bowed again and quickly disappeared, leaving Beka's gaze pulled between Tyr and the box in her hands. The whole thing felt entirely unreal, as if she was having a very bizarre dream.

"How exactly is this thing meant to be done?" she asked Tyr, her voice weaker than she'd anticipated. He smiled at her, the look in his face suggesting that of someone speaking to a particularly slow child.

"It won't take long. We will go up on that platform," he pointed to the centrepiece of the room, "you will offer me a helix, I will accept. We won't actually put them on until we come back to our room. This is all."

"Oh." Beka felt confused as she looked around the room, which was set up with food and lights as if for a party.

"The food is for the benefit of others," Tyr explained. "We will not be attending."

"I guess…"

"We have more important things to think about," he finished her sentence for her. Not that it was actually what she intended to say, but it didn't exactly matter. He probably had no interest in what she wanted to say.

It didn't occur to her until they had stepped onto the platform, that the broadcasts would reach Dylan. He would know she had left him. Would he know she had done it for the right reasons? She doubted it. _She_ wasn't even sure of that. She felt the gaze of a thousand people on her and started to tremble slightly.

"Tyr, I…" she wasn't sure what to say. "I'm offering you a helix?" He seemed at least partially satisfied with this.

"I accept," he declared in a loud voice, seemingly more to the rest than for her. Beka flinched in surprise as a sudden cheer went through the room, and Tyr grabbed her hand, leading her off the platform.

_"That was _it_?"_ she thought in horror as she left the room. She had somehow planned for hours before she had to face the inevitable. Now it was just a few doors away, and she was petrified. He led her back into her bedroom, and her hands shook so much taking out the helixes she dropped the box on the floor. His gaze scrutinised her as she picked them up, making her feel the tears pushing at the back of her eyes.

Somehow she made it through the act of snapping the helix band shut on both their arms without fainting, being sick, or catching skin. His adoring gaze as he studied her was becoming more and more unbearable by the minute, and it was only by sheer willpower she managed to push herself up to kiss him.

* * *

The universe had turned itself inside out, and now everything seemed to finally fall back into place, only everything was in the wrong place. She lay on the edge of the mattress, barely breathing, the blankets crushed to her bare chest. Tyr's shape was behind her, sleeping, basking in a satiated glow.

She truly was his now. Forever.


	45. Chapter 45

She had debated with herself over several seconds, and yet managed to reach no conclusion. Had it taken this long, there surely was none? A paradox, Rommie decided conclusively. And yet…a paradox that had to be solved. Because…not making a decision was making one all in itself, and Rommie did not like being unsure of her decisions.

"I'm a warship," she told herself. "I make decisions based on logic, based on loyalty to my Captain, based on what is needed to protect my crew." This unfortunately did not help. Her inbuilt loyalty to her Captain drove her one way, yet the urge to protect him drove her the other.

It was indeed a paradox.

She could at the very least comfort herself with the fact that this was not usually a decision she would have to make. Some may have said she was lucky in this case, as her decision should have at least had no risk of casualty (but she couldn't be quite sure), nor any type of destruction (at least not physical), but lucky wasn't the first word that came to her mind. Those decisions she was used to, she understood them. When dealing with emotion, including her own surprisingly overpowering ones, and especially Dylan's, she was simply at a loss.

Her instinct told her to keep it from him, to protect him at any cost. On the other hand, she had to protect Beka too, and somehow she knew this was not the first officer's own will at play. Logic also told her that he would find out eventually. Perhaps it would hurt less the sooner it happened.

"Dylan," she left her brooding and made herself appear in his quarters. "There's something on the broadcast I think that you should see."

* * *

She had expected Tyr to leave early that morning to do Tyr-like things, or whatever Nietzscheans got up to these days. He seemed however intent on sticking around her like a particularly annoying plaster, trying to do everything for her in a very humble way, yet strutting around as if he was the only man in the world. She supposed the whole wife thing was confusing to Tyr as well. Her sympathies did not run particularly deep.

She found herself wondering time and again this one thing; what Dylan was doing. What was he thinking of it all? Had he realised yet she was gone forever? The word threw a shudder down her body, and she felt as if a lump was appearing in her throat. Forever was a terribly long time to lose someone you love, especially when they are so accessible, almost on your doorstep, and yet a barrier is built between you that cannot be crossed.

She just hoped he understood why.

Glancing over at Tyr, she wished silently to herself that she had actually done this for the right reasons. It became harder and harder to believe after the dreams had stopped, and yet she only needed to remind herself of them and it would all come crashing back. Dylan dying somehow pained her more than anything else, and the image was enough to keep her with Tyr. Yes, she could admit that to herself, though perhaps not to him. He would never understand, he would tell her to protect herself, that he was a big boy, and that he could take care of himself.

Oh, he always wore those delusions…but the truth was that often, and especially when it came to Tyr, Dylan could not take care of himself. He was too gullible, to quick to believe the best of people, and Tyr was simply too ruthless and determined. The only person who could save Dylan now was her, because if Tyr decided he was to die, no one could. Especially not Dylan, especially not now.

He came over to her, kissed her neck tenderly like Dylan sometimes did, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Slipping his arms under hers, he handed her a small glass bottle with a clear liquid inside it. She gave it a puzzled look.

"Nietzscheans very rarely fails to impregnate their females," Tyr explained in a soft, quiet voice, "but this is to ensure conception." Well, the odds against her were too high, and partly, Beka had already given up her entire being for Dylan's and the Andromeda's safety. She lifted the bottle apathetically, as if it was not her hands, not her body. Swallowing the liquid made her want to gag, even though it was without taste. She felt dizzy and weak as she handed the empty bottle back to him, a smug, beaming smile on his face, his whole body almost shaking with pride and joy.

"What a perfect contrast," Beka thought.

****

It couldn't have been long ago. Rommie had mentioned the date, but it had somehow slipped his mind in the entire scene, Beka, who were supposed to be having some time alone and then come back to him, Beka who were supposed to be with him, standing there with Tyr…with Tyr. The one man who hurt her more than anyone else in the universe. And the reporter's voice, that voice which he swore he would have killed could he have.

"The marriage of Tyr Anasazi to Rebecca Valentine…" The rest of it he didn't quite catch. And then, when he led her out, the determined yet lost look on her face, he knew exactly what was to happen…

A second or so later, he was leaning over the toilet bowl, heaving his guts up at the mere thought. Beka. With Tyr. Like he was with her. It wasn't right.

How could she have done this to him? And…why? What reasons could there possibly be, unless she had trusted Trance…

Trance.

There had never been a competition in getting quickly from the Captain's quarters to Hydroponics, but if there had, Dylan would most certainly have won first price. The golden alien was carelessly watering her plants, although he was at the time certain there had to be some other diabolical plan in her head.

"You just can't do it, can you?" he hissed in a very un-Dylan-like way. Trance picked up on this, and gave him a surprised look.

"Do what?"

"Oh, don't suddenly start playing stupid, Trance, because frankly, it is getting old! I know what you did, and so do you. Beka married Tyr. You think that was cause she loves him so much?" Trance looked…well, he couldn't quite tell.

"I don't know, Dylan," she replied finally. "I can't tell you her reasons any more than I can tell you yours for loving her." He laughed humourlessly and spun around, beginning to planlessly roam across the room.

"So all your tales of doom were nothing to do with it, huh? You didn't, oh, I don't know, intentionally ruin her life, and mine in the process? You want me to believe it wasn't you behind this, forcing her to go?" Trance's eyes widened.

"Dylan, I…I know you would like to believe this, and in a way so would I. Because it would hurt less. But at the same time…I think it's important that you know the truth." He stopped, waited, stared at her expectantly. "I haven't mentioned it for weeks. I told my companion…I told her there would be another way. That we had to keep Beka here. And then…then she just left. I don't know why, Dylan, and that is the truth." He stared at her, his eyes blank, emotionless. Then he turned and walked out of the room, his posture immaculate, his face the picture of a stoic soldier. Rommie and Trance both watched him and knew, that if this was to continue, Dylan Hunt would never be the same again.


End file.
